


Trials of Kingship

by Oakel



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post BOFTA, Romance, Thranduil's memories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 46,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakel/pseuds/Oakel
Summary: Long has Elven-King Thranduil been cold and distant in his ruler ship of The Greenwood. Tauriel seeks to understand what has shaped him to what he is, and gains more insight into her king, as both come to terms with long suppressed emotions for one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have drawn a lot of inspiration from “Sliver-crowned Valkyrie” who has written two outstanding stories named Broken Glass and Warring Hearts, give them a read! The chapters will be a collect of moments in the elven kings’ reign and the decisions he must make.

Trials Of Kingship

Chapter I - For Memories Sake 

The halls were silent and calm as the elven king sat forward in his throne, his gaze fixed to the steps that rose to his seat as he indulged his drifting mind. What a sight he must have been, not his usual haughty arrogance from upon his high throne, no he looked nothing less than a forlorn figure who welcomed griefs embrace. Thranduil’ mind plagued him with the memories of the battle of the five armies, not since the first age had elf and dwarf taken life from one another yet both Dain and he had ordered their armies to battle, for not the arrival of Azog the two forces would’ve engaged in a bloody slaughter. 

He remembered fighting beside his warriors as they cut great swaths through the orcs, the skill and grace of the elves colliding with the savage and brutal nature of the orcs, much had been made about the dwarves hatred for orcs but for the eldar, they were the abominations, the darkness to the light of the elves and no mercy was given from either side. Four-hundred elven lives ended that day, bound for The Hall of Mandos where their spirits would be cleansed before being returning to their physical form, free to return to Middle Earth or remain within Valinor. Though grief-stuck by their deaths, loved ones could take comfort that they would one day see them again. 

“My king” came a voice that echoed about the silent cavern, causing Thranduil’ head to rise to meet the source of the voice. His steely gaze fell upon the elf before him as the elf, garbed in the golden armour of the Mirkwood army and a curved blade at his side lowered his head again in respect. 

“Eylerion, it is good to see that you have returned safe. Tell me how your task fared in the southern reaches” Thranduil asked as he returned to an upright position in his throne, his regal manner returned. 

“Very well my king, the army has extended the borders ten leagues, all spider nests and orc dens have been purged” Turin replied swiftly. The news was pleasing to the king, no longer was he content to hide in his halls whilst the shadow grew ever foul. Upon his return to Mirkwood he issued the orders to purge the surrounding forests from the grip of evil, his people had been keen for they too had grown weary of the sickness within the trees. 

“Very good, and your casualties?” he asked. 

“None my lord, the spiders and orcs were not expecting such force” replied the elf again with haste. The king had noticed the rapid response of the commander’s answers, he suspected that Turin was eager to return to his wife. 

“The retched orcs and their dark creatures are little match save in number. Thank you for your report commander, I will hold council tomorrow morning and I wish you to attend. For now, you may be excused” Thranduil spoke with an even keel to his voice. 

“Very well my lord, I will see you tomorrow morning. Good day my king” Turin spoke and bowed one last time before swiftly turning on his heel and walking away. The king allowed a small smile to grace his features, he had allowed some warmth to return to his heart, the eagerness of Turin reminded Thranduil of himself in his younger years when he would try to escape countless council meetings and princely duties to see his beloved wife. The smile faltered on his face at the memory of his wife, it had been centuries now since her passing yet the pain did not wane. 

The shame he felt when Mithrandir had reminded him that his beloved had left behind more than just jewels, she had left him the most precious gift of all, their son. It was at that moment Thranduil saw what he had become, a cold, ruthless and isolationist. How would his wife have looked at him? He closed his eyes slowly and took a quiet breath, the grief that her memory brought was still too raw, he would fade if he allowed himself to dwell for to long. 

A sound drew his attention from his thoughts once more, his keen elven senses picking up the faintest footfalls coming from the walk ways of the cavern. He recognised the soft steps, for hundreds of years he had grown accustom to the footfalls of the captain of his guard. Turning his head to the direction of the sounds he saw the elf maiden with fiery red hair walking along the many winding pathways that led to his throne, he noticed she wore a expressionless mask across her fair features. It grieved him that she should experience such sorrow at the death of the dwarf, they had both not spoken of it since they left Ravenhill, it was something of a raw subject for the two of them. Thranduil sat upright in his throne again, wincing slightly at the tenderness of his shoulder, it had pained him since his beloved elk was killed beneath him, causing him to land hard on his right shoulder. 

“My king” Tauriel spoke as she stopped before him. He noted a brief look of concern in her face before it disappeared behind the emotionless mask once more. 

“Tauriel, I was not aware we were to meet today? Is everything well?” he asked, surprised she would seek him out unless something was amiss. She seemed to pause for a moment before meeting his gaze. 

“I wished to ask you a number of questions, up until now I thought it not prudent to ask such a thing” she replied, still holding his gaze.

“What is it you wish to know?” came the kings reply, his interest had been peeked at what she wished to know. 

“I wish to ask these questions in private, would you indulge me this?” Tauriel asked calmly, though the slight tremor rattling her slender frame did not escape his notice. What caused her to be so nervous only raised is interest in what questions she wished to ask. 

“Very well, come to my chambers this evening. You may ask you questions then” he replied, noting the surprise in her eyes. 

“Your chambers? I would not wish to intrude my king..” 

“Where you intruding I would not have asked you to join me” Thranduil spoke to cut her off. Tauriel stopped and nodded in response before turning to leave. 

“Thank you, my lord,” she spoke softly, before leaving him alone once more. 


	2. Dagorlad

Trials of Kingship

Chapter II - Dagorlad

Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, the silver light of the moon and stars gently piercing the articulate windows that were spaced evenly on his chamber walls. He gently held a crystal goblet, half filled with wine between his fingers as he stared at the twin blades he carried into battle, their pristine craftsmanship still held up after all the ages of the world. Reaching out he traced one of the blades with the tips of his fingers, the beauty of the sword almost masked its true purpose as the he felt the cold smooth metal against his skin, countless orc and other foul beasts had been slain beneath its cold edge. 

A king should always strive for peace my son, but ever must his hand be near a sword, for not all wish for the same. One day you will see this.

His father’s words echoed through his mind, he withdrew his hand gently from the blade and raised his glass to his mouth, allowing its sweet contents to coat his mouth and throat. His father was a wise elf, wise as Elrond or Celeborn and a beloved king, those words were spoken to him on the eve they were to leave for Mordor, to fight in the last alliance of elves and men. The memory of those years clouded his mind, he could still hear the roar of battle, the clashing of steel and finally, his own grieving cry. A soft knock at his door brought him from his tormented memories, it took him a few moments to gather himself before calling out. 

“Enter” came his deep voice, as the door opened slowly he noticed a warm liquid running from his palm, blood. In his hand was the remnants of the goblet he was drinking from, it had shattered and left deep wounds on his palm. The was a slight gasp from his door which drew his attention. 

“My lord? Your hand!” came the soft voice of Tauriel as she moved into the room, closing to the distance to her king. Seemingly without thought she gently took his hand and inspected the wound. There was a pause between them, both suddenly noting the proximity between them, with only the soft sounds of their breathing to be heard. It was the elven-king who acted first by removing his bloodied palm from her own and walked towards his desk, before pulling free some white cloth to bind the wound. 

“I have endured worse, please take a seat. You may then ask your questions” Thranduil spoke, nodding his head to a pair of chairs over by a large bookcase. Tauriel lowered her head in respect and gently walked over, taking her seat in a grace that only an elf could muster. He noticed she was dressed in a gown and not her usual patrolling armour, something he was not accustomed to seeing, he noted that she caste her eyes about his chambers before settling them on him. A flicker of emotion evident behind them. 

“Is this wise my king? For me to come alone to your chambers, the people will talk” Tauriel started gingerly.

“I am the king, what I do in my own time is my own concern. You wished a private audience with me, now you have it” he replied with a cool tone, his eyes flicking to hers briefly before moving over to a cabinet where his wine was held. He looked over his shoulder at her, gesturing with his eyes if she would join him in having a drink. 

“No thank you my king” she replied politely. 

“Very well, come, explain what you wish to know” Thranduil spoke as he walked to the chair opposite hers. Now that he was closer he took in her appearance; her gown was of a deep emerald green with feint golden leaf patterns cascading down from the collar, her flame coloured hair hung loose and wore a pattern of braids which held her locks in place. He noted the subtle shifts in her form and suddenly brought his eyes to hers, compelling her to speak. 

“I spoke ill to you at Dale, drew my weapon on you even. My anger and lack of understanding of your motive drove me to such rash actions” Tauriel started, her eyes shining at the memory. The king remained composed, his face betraying nothing though inside he felt the stirring of sorrow at the day’s events. “I was too naïve, unwise and foolish. I beg of your forgiveness for my actions, and with your consent I wish to learn about your past, with a willing ear. Help me see why you act as you do. Please” begged the elleth, a tear slipping from her eye and her voice breaking. Thranduil felt his gaze soften as the elleth before him released her sorrows before him, he set his wine down and took one of her hands in his, causing her to jolt at the sudden touch, her reddening eyes looked to his. 

“What would you like to know first, ask anything” he spoke softly. 

“How your reign began, if you are able to recount it without grief” she asked gently. He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, suppressing the grief rising within his heart, he did not speak of those days but perhaps it was time to face those demons finally. 

“Very well, It began at Dagorlad” he began.

Thranduil stood side by side with his father Oropher on the plain of Dagorlad, the mighty host of elves and men marched in perfect formation as they advanced on the realm of Mordor and its dark host of orcs. His keen eyes picked out the hordes of filth in the distance, Gil-galad commanded the elven host and had ordered that they would hold and allow the orcs to rush forward. 

“We should be taking the fight to those creatures, orcs are ill disciplined they would break on the charge of the eldar alone. The Noldor high-king would have us fight a drawn-out engagement with these beasts” his father muttered to his son. Thranduil knew his father held little love for their Noldorian kin, and it aggrieved him greatly that the elven army was placed under their command. The prince held little opinion of the high elves, though noticed the Noldor seemed to look down upon the Sindar and Silvan elves, seeing themselves as the greatest of the elven race. However, if the tales were to be believed of their deeds, then they were perhaps right. 

“I would just see that as many of our own return home alive father, it is good that the Noldor stand with us. They are formidable warriors, their experience will help win the day” Thranduil replied, the footfalls of the alliance thundering in his ears and the screeching of the orcs growing louder with each step. 

“Formidable they might be my son, but why do they not share the front ranks with us. They plan for the orcs to break upon us and soften for their blades” the king responded, reaching for the sword at his waist in preparation for the battle ahead. Thranduil admired the silver blade, his own had been crafted to be identical to his fathers, ever trying to impress him.

“Are you fearful father?” the prince asked as the army halted. Oropher turned to his only son and looked him firmly in the eye, a hint of sorrow lay behind them. 

“Only a fool marches to battle without fear, know that I did not want this life for you. I wanted you to experience peace and joy, not war and sorrow” spoke his father in a sombre tone. Oropher caste his eyes over the horde of orcs before them, an endless sea of tainted filth, a twisted mockery of elves of old by Morgoth. 

With a bellowing horn, orc horde surged forward like a wave. All along the host of elves and men reacted, the deafening sound of shields locking together like thunder and the sound of spear hafts resting atop each shield. Thranduil drew his sword along with his people, ready to face the elves oldest foe, the thundering feet of the orcs was joined with the whistle of arrows. Thousands of white fletched projectiles cut through the air and thudded home within the surging horde, slaying orcs by the thousands, he watched as volley after volley dropped the horde, like a wave breaking on a rock. 

To their left flank sounded the horn of Lothlorien, turning to see what was happening Thranduil felt a surge of panic flow through him. Amdir of Lorien had ordered his host to charge, without the high kings order. 

“Ada, they cannot fight the orcs alone they will be overwhelmed!” Thranduil spoke to his father, the older elf shared the same expression as his son. They watched as the Lorien surged into the horde of orcs, colliding with the foul creatures in a battle frenzy. Thranduil turned to where Gil-Galad would be positioned, at the centre of the host. The high king wore an expression of horror and anger at the hubris charge. 

“Elves of Greenwood, with me! To our kin’s aid!” Oropher bellowed above the noise. The elves echoed his call and surged forward to relieve their allies. Thranduil kept pace with his father as they charged into the fray, their silver blades a blur as they cleaved through orc like wheat in a field, though their initial charge was halted by the weight of the orc horde and before long the elves where surrounded. The king and prince fought with savage grace as countless orcs fell beneath the swords of the elves, their black blood darkening the ground, but for every orc slain there was another to take its place. Thranduil’s eyes watched the scenes surrounding him, his people fighting hard but were slowly being overwhelmed, they were cut off from the main army and the battle grew ill. 

He severed the head of another orc before a sense of dread slowly began to overcome him, a malice that caused his very spirit to recoil in its presence. Only one other foe brought with them that form of dread other than the dark lord himself. Nazgul. A high-pitched screech broke through the snarls and squeals of the orcs, causing friend and foe alike to pause their fighting for a moment. Thranduil watched in dread as one of the black cloaked wraiths stepped from the masses of orcs, it searched the remaining elves before pointing its blade at one in the crowd. 

“Come elf-king, face darkness now” it hissed. 

“I fear no servant of Sauron, the light of the eldar will caste you away!” replied the challenger. King Oropher stepped forward, his gleaming sword held ready. The Nazgul screeched and lunged for the elven-king with its sword raised, the battle resumed around them as the elf-king and wraith duelled. Thranduil cleaved a bloody swath through the orcs to reach his father, the final orc in his way stood dumbfounded as its sword arm fell to the ground before being decapitated swiftly. The prince watched as his father duelled with the Nazgul with great skill, every blow the dark warrior struck was parried before being countered by the elf-king. Thranduil watched as Oropher began to gain the upper hand and became more dominate in his attacks, but just as the king slashed at the wraith, a whistle was heard before suddenly a black fletched arrow thudded into Oropher’s upper back. 

“No!” Thranduil cried over the battle and rushed to his father’s aid, slaying any orc who dared approach. The Nazgul approached the elf-king who was knelt, the arrow having hit his lung, though the king looked up at the wraith with a defiant stare. 

“There can be no light in the void” the Nazgul spoke before thrusting a morgul blade into his stomach. The Nazgul went to strike the king again before Thranduil slashed his sword and connected with the wraiths hand, causing the creature to shriek in rage as it recoiled, its form shifting from the touch of elvish steel. Thranduil moved between the Nazgul and the still body of his father and reached down to take up the kings’ sword, having both blades held at his side. No orc approached the prince as they focused on the faltering elves surrounding them, it was not long before the Nazgul reformed and approached Thranduil. 

“Foolish elfling, the light of the elves will die” it spoke. 

Thranduil did not respond, only unleashed a flurry of blows with his twin swords with a fury unmatched by the servant of evil. Orcs tried to rush the prince but were cut down as the silver blades moved like a tornado of steel, even the Nazgul struggled with the onslaught of the elven prince. Thranduil with untamed fury slashed downward at the wraiths head which was parried, just as he wanted, with his fathers’ sword he ran the Nazgul through the chest causing the dark creature to screech, causing even the orcs to back away. Any lesser blade would have rotted away, but elvish steel burned into the servant of Sauron. 

“Begone foul creature” Thranduil hissed, as if commanded and wraith’s corporal form dissipated and vanished into the horde of oncoming orcs. He turned and assessed the battle around him, as if time was slowed, the hosts of Lorien and Greenwood were being overrun, no matter the valour of the elves they could not stand against such odds, all was lost. He turned to his fathers’ body and rushed to him, if it were to be his last moment, he would be beside his fathers side. He fell to his knees and pulled the king to him, it was too late for him now, Thranduil could see the last moments of life ebb away. 

“My son” Oropher spoke weakly. Thranduil waited for the death blow to come, but it never did. Soon a bellowing horn sounded and was followed by the war cheer of the elves. Looking up Thranduil watched as the golden armoured Noldorian host ripped through the ranks of orcs, Gil-galad at the head of the charge, his spear Anglos sweeping aside countless orcs. It was not long before the orcs fled from the field as the elves slaughtered them in droves, causing the armies to cheer in victory. 

“Ada, stay with me” Thranduil begged. He knew it was of little use, few would survive a morgul wound. 

“You fought well my little leaf, only a handful can stand against one of the nine” spoke the king as he weakly placed a hand on his sons’ face. “Promise me you will get our people home? That the darkness will be defeated and that you will cherish every life under you’re rule?” Oropher spoke, his voice barely a murmur. Thranduil let his tears fall as he cradled his fathers’ head to his chest.

“I promise you ada, I will not let our people fall I will protect them with everything I have” he whispered in response. It was then, on the plain of Dagorlad that Oropher king of the woodland realm, died from his wounds. A cry of anguish was heard as the prince held his fathers’ body and grief took over, the remaining woodland elves surrounded the pair, each wearing grief on their fair faces. As Thranduil wept he felt a hand gently rest upon his shoulder and heard the rustling and clinking of armour as he sensed some crouch beside him. 

“Thranduil?” spoke a soft voice. The prince raised his head to see Elrond knelt beside him, a look of sorrow and understand spread across his face. Behind him stood Gil-galad, high king of the Noldor, he too looked forlorn and looked at Thranduil with a expression of pity. 

“Guards, please ensure that Oropher of Greenwood is taken to our camp and is treated with the same respect as any elven king. The rest of you please bare the dead and wounded also” Gil-galad spoke before walking away, laying his hand briefly on Thranduil’ shoulder. 

“They are your people to lead now, I am sure you will make your father proud” spoke the high king. 

“Two days later we marched into the heart of Mordor and laid siege to Barad-dur for seven years, Sauron was defeated with the combined efforts of Elendil and Gil-galad, but it was Isildur which cut the ring from the dark lords’ hand” Thranduil finished softly, the memory of his father’ death stirred the anguish he felt all those years ago. “So you see why I am so reluctant to fight in open war again, I promised my father I would keep my people safe” he added gently. He watched as Tauriel had her eyes closed, he noted the expression on her face was that of sorrow before opening her eyes to reveal unshed tears. 

“I am sorry my lord, to have ever questioned your judgement. I had not known of what you had endured, I see that I was wrong to judge you for inaction so harshly” she said, her voice wavering. 

“You were not to know, few know of what happened that day. Many have left for the undying lands, the horrors of what they saw too much to bare, only a few have stayed here” he replied. Watching her tears fall, he felt the need to offer some comfort, for she too had lost her parents many years ago to orcs. The elleth wiped her eyes gently on his sleeve and looked up at the king again, a gentle smile adoring her face.

“I did not know you fought one of the nine, none speak of it” she commented. 

“I fought Khamul the Easterling, a foul creature. He is also the commander of the forces of Dol-Guldur, no doubt on purpose, the dark lord seeks to remind me of our history” he spoke thoughtfully. The old fortress had become steeped in evil, an affront to his fathers’ legacy, yet even after the white council purged the dark lord from that hilltop, his servants returned. Returning from his musing, Thranduil looked at the elleth before him once more. “Did you wish to know anything further?” he asked.

“Not tonight my lord, perhaps I can return tomorrow to ask another?” Tauriel replied. The king pondered this for a moment, as much as his recount of the story had grieved him, it felt pleasing to share his memories with someone once again. 

“Very well” he replied. Tauriel smiled and stood from her seat and headed towards the door. She paused for the briefest of moments before turning back to the king. 

“Good night my king” she whispered, a unfamiliar emotion to her voice and a slight dance behind her eyes. 

“Good night Tauriel” replied Thranduil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	3. Masked Emotions

** Trials Of Kingship **

****

_Chapter III – Masked Emotion_

The elven-king strode into his chambers and allowed the door to close gently behind him, he had returned from sparring practice with Feren and was eager to bathe to wash away the sweat and grim as well as soothe his aching muscle. He gently placed his swords upon his desk before walking though to an adjoining room which held a water basin which, thankfully, was already full of water. Thranduil gently undressed from his sparring cloths, wincing again at the pain in his shoulder which still hadn’t completely healed. He wasted no time before stepping into the steaming pool and inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine and lavender, relaxing as the warm water washed over his aching limbs and cleansed his body of sweat.

He did not tarry long, Tauriel was due to arrive later and it would not be befitting of an elf of his status to be unkempt. He was stood before his mirror and assessing himself, he stood in a slimming black robe which was accented with hues of crimson, making him appear regal and imposing. On his head was no crown, instead deciding to forgo it on this occasion, having no need to re-enforce his rule this evening.

His recollection of the last alliance had stirred pangs of sorrow within his heart, but at the same time it had forced him to confront his grief and the death of his father. He was always in awe of Oropher and strived to earn his approval in everything he did, it was strange that with a small pang of sadness that his own life resembled that of his fathers, Oropher too raised Thranduil alone as he did Legolas. His mother having passed away when Thranduil was but an elfing, yet his father was kind and loving to him, could he say the same for Legolas? His own son had left the woodland realm after the battle at Erebor, Thranduil had told him to go north, seek out the one they called Strider. Was he the cause? Had his cold demeanour drove away his own son? A knock at his door brought him back to the room.

“Come in” he spoke, not bothering to look at the door as it opened. He needed not to, for the soft footfalls of Tauriel were distinctive to him.

“My king” came her soft voice, causing him to look over his shoulder to see her. He grimaced again at the pain in his shoulder and silently cursed. “My lord, when did you last have someone look at your shoulder?” Tauriel asked with concern evident in her voice, a little too much concern even. Thranduil waved it off, wounds took time to heal.

“It is nothing, it will heal in time” he responded and headed towards his chair. The young elleth however would not take his response.

“My king it is not nothing, allow me to look” she countered. He swiftly turned on her, his stormy eyes boring into hers, causing her to pause suddenly.

“Last time I checked you were not a healer, but a captain of the guard. It is not of your concern” Thranduil spoke, his voice firm with authority. Why was she so insistent on his wellbeing? Something was different, he noticed her lingering at the door a moment longer the evening before, and the dance of emotion behind her eyes. Tauriel looked down, avoiding his gaze before making her way to the door. “Where are you going” he called after her. She paused.

“I sought not to upset you my king, only to concern myself with your health. I would think you would like to be alone?” she responded without turning to him. Again her reaction puzzled him, before her banishment she would not have concerned herself in such a way.

“No Tauriel, please. Ask your question” he said softly, aiming to defuse the tension caused by his firm tone before. He watched as she turned to face him, a small smile gracing her lips. He gestured for her to take a seat and took one himself also, she complied with his request and gently lowered herself into the plush chair in front of him. He sat quietly whilst studying her, waiting for her question to be asked. She said nothing for a time, merely looked at the vast array of books on the kings’ book case before he eyes suddenly darted to his.

“Before I ask, would you like to ask anything of me my king?” she said softly. The question caught him off guard, he was prepared for a question of her choosing, not one of his own. They were many he wished to ask, could in fact ask, but one did creep into his mind.

“Did truly love him? The dwarf I mean” Thranduil asked, his question sudden and frank, as though the mention of it irked him greatly. He watched as Tauriel’s mouth parted slightly, clearly taken aback at the question asked. He noticed as she closed her mouth and straightened herself in the chair.

“No my lord, I am ashamed to admit I was in love with the idea of him. Too long had I stood idle in these halls, watching evil as it crept ever forward” she began, shame clearly adorned her beautiful face before she met his gaze once more. “When the dwarves arrived, their spirit of adventure and purpose set off a spark in me. Which I mistook as love for one of their own, though there is one other motive that causes me shame” she whispered that last part.

“Well, what you tell me is what I expected, but come do not keep me waiting” replied the king.

“I wished for the attention of another, I thought if I expressed an interest in the dwarf that they would react” she confessed, her face truly did reflect remorse. Thranduil said nothing at this confession from the captain, instead he reached for a ewer of wine and poured a glass for himself and for the elleth, they would need it.

“I cannot deny that I am disappointed in this Tauriel, this it not the way of the eldar, love sacred and a gift. Not a tool, your actions brought shame” he spoke, his tone held a slight scolding behind it. He handed the glass of wine to Tauriel before leaning back in his chair, carefully thinking how to word his next sentence.

“I know, I am truly ashamed for my actions my king” was her reply, her head held low and a single tear fell down her cheek.

“For whom does your heart earn Tauriel? Why not just make your intentions clear to him? You would make any elf lucky indeed” Thranduil said as he took a sip from his wine. He felt a twitch of irritation at the mention of her affections, for what reason he knew not, perhaps it was because she was his captain and the idea of her being distracted from her duty would be a great shame.

“I wish not to say, for I fear he does not feel the same, nor will he ever” she replied, taking a sip from her wine also. Thranduil felt another pang of irritation, he would not press her for this information.

“Very well, I am sure whoever this elf is. He will be grateful, learn from this however, though I have little love for dwarves, no one should be playthings in love. I know this was not all intentional however” he finished, seeking to end the sorrow that emanated from the elleth. She seemed grateful for his words as a small smile graced her lips.

“Why did you seek me out of Ravenhill?” she whispered. He pondered the question, his mind drifting back to that dark day at Erebor.

_Thranduil watched as Legolas walked away to seek his own place in the world, both grief and pride battled within his heart as the prince disappeared. He closed his eyes, would his beloved wife have looked from upon her resting place in shame for his actions? Gandalf’s words rung heavy in his ears “Your wife left you more than those gems my friend, she left you a son. Tell me, which would she have you value more” those words had changed everything for him, like the world stood still before him. In the silence of Ravenhill, he heard it._

_He came out of the ruined tower and saw Tauriel above the dwarf, his parting words to her flooding back to him. He saw her tears as she asked why it hurt. She had only known the dwarf for a few days, it was not love, not how he knew it to be anyway, but he wished to comfort the elleth before him._

_“Because it was real” he whispered to her, he did not truly believe his own words for how could one fall in love with another so soon, however as he saw the elleth grieve, he could not bear to tell her the cold truth. He watched as she lowered her head once more and briefly touch her lips with that of the fallen hero, Thranduil ignored this scene, a mild form of irritation rising within him, he would stay silent, for her._

_“What will you do with me?” She asked softly as she rose from the ground. He pondered her question with confusion at first, before remembering her banishment. He had been enraged when she had defied his orders and had even pointed his sword at her, an action which brought great shame to him, not since the kin slaying had an elf held another at sword point. With Legolas gone, he did not want another person he cared for to be gone from his life._

_“Return home Tauriel, please come back to the forest, we will need you in the coming years. I will need you” he replied softly, surprising himself at the depth of his words. He watched as the elleth looked up suddenly at his words, her face showing shock at his kindness and sincerity of what we had said along with another flicker of emotion behind her eyes._

_“After all I have done and said? I was beyond cruel my king, to accuse you of having no love within you. Even after Legolas told me of your wife, how can you forgive me that?” She spoke, her voice wavering. The mention of his wife and that Legolas had spoken of her to Tauriel hit him like a wave, he sought to stop the tears from forming in his eyes, thousands of years of withheld emotions threatening to spill forth._

_“You made an error in judgement, as have we all in life. I forgive you this, if you forgive me of raising my sword to you?” He replied, his voice deep and face expressionless once again, though he could tell that Tauriel was not convinced by the façade. He watched as she studied him intently, the last of her tears had subside as she stepped towards him. Thranduil nodded and held out his hand. “Come let us go home, he will be taken care of by his kin” he said softly. Tauriel looked over her shoulder one last time at kili before turning to him and taking his hand._

“You could have left me up there alone, forgotten me. Why did you not? She asked. Thranduil did not know what to say, he knew not what drove him to go to her. She was right, he could’ve just left her there, but he couldn’t, and he did not know why.

“I protect my people, you are one of them. It was my duty to seek you out and offer you to return home’ he reasoned. Happy with his explanation he took a swig of his wine, his mind troubled by his inability to explain why he went to her that day. He thought for a moment he saw a flicker of disappointment flash behind her eyes, no he thought to himself, the wine was starting to affect his judgement.

“Why did you go to battle over gems my lord? Surely a handful of white gems were not worth more than your soldiers’ lives?” She asked after a few minutes silence. Thranduil snapped his eyes to hers, not bothering to hide his ire at her words, her words caused great insult, had she known nothing of those gems and the tales behind them?

“Let me tell you why” he said in a low voice, heavy with anger.

_“My lord Thranduil, we bring word from Laketown” Feren called as he swiftly marched up the to the king’s throne. Thranduil sat up slowly, eager to hear the news brought to him. “Smaug has been slain, by Bard the Bargeman my king, the city is destroyed, and they call for aid. What should we do my lord?” the commander finished. The court all turned their gaze to the king, long had he tarried in his halls, refusing to engage with the world since Thror withheld the gems of starlight. Thranduil sat still, deep in thought, I will reclaim what is mine. Standing from his throne he looked to his people._

_“Muster the host, Mirkwood will march on Erebor on the eve. Long have the dwarves withheld what is ours by right, long have they ransomed the jewels of my wife and your queen. What say you?” He called out to his people, his voice echoing in the cavern. A huge cheer of approval rose from the people, eager to reclaim the lost heirloom of their beloved queen, lost many years before. The king watched with pride at his peoples support, at last he would be able to once again hold the beloved jewels of his late wife, maybe they would offer some small measure of peace for his heart. He was brought from his reverie by Feren once more._

_“What of the people of Laketown my king?” asked his commander._

_“Ensure we bring supplies, food, blankets and some building materials. Long our friendship has been with the folk of the lake, I will not see that they suffer” replied the king as he stepped from his high throne and made for his personal armoury, Feren fell in beside him._

_“My king, is it wise to march on the mountain armed for war? Our relations with the dwarves are poor now, this will be viewed as an act of war” Feren spoke. Thranduil stopped and turned to the elf beside him._

_“I march with an army because Thorin will send for one himself, you think they will bargain with us then? No my dear commander, I intend no war and risk the lives our people over gold. I seek reparations for the destruction they brought upon the north” Thranduil reassured the commander, Feren had fought in the last alliance alongside him and had been a close friend since, always willing to listen to his advice._

_“What if they refuse? Thror refused you the necklace once, they hate us for leaving them to Smaug. They would sooner die than give in to an elf” countered Feren._

_“You may be right, I will do everything to avoid conflict. We will only engage in battle should they make the first move” Thranduil spoke as he began to walk again._

_“How many will you take my lord?” asked the commander._

_“Two thousand warriors should be a sizeable force. The closest host to Erebor would be Dain, he is beset with his own issues of late, should he send a relief force it will not be overwhelming” Thranduil finished before leaving Feren to carry out his orders._

“Those gems, were no mere stones Tauriel, they were the first gift I gave my beloved wife. She was never without them, and for Thror to keep them from me, knowing this. It could not stand” Thranduil finished recounting this tale of his motive. Tauriel shifted slightly in her seat, she had kept quiet throughout the story.

“I did not know” was all she said in reply. They sat in silence for a moment before she looked up at him again. “How did the dwarf king come by these stones?” she asked.

“That will be a tale for another time, the story causes me much grief and I am not ready to tell it” he replied, surprising the memory as it came to him _._ He turned to look out of his window when pain lanced through his chest and shoulder, _curses_ he seethed as the pain lingered causing his glass of wine to slip from his fingers and smash on the floor.

“My king! Are you alright?” Tauriel cried in alarm and stood from her seat and raced to his side, concern etched in her beautiful face. Thranduil was relieved when the pain began to subside, his breath returning to a steady pace and clearing his mind. He noted how close she had come.

“I am fine Tau..”

“You are not fine my lord” she said, cutting him off. “Please, let me look?” she asked carefully. He looked at her thoughtfully before relenting, she would not let this go otherwise. He watched as the elleth slowly undid the front of his dark robe, careful not to hurt him further, it was only a few moments before he felt the cool air contact his bare skin. He looked straight ahead, carefully ensuring not to make eye contact with the captain, her gasp of surprise however drew his attention.

“My lord, why have you not sought a healer?” she whispered as she observed the dark bruises that covered from his right shoulder down to his hip. He flinched when he saw her hand reach out to touch his wounds, causing her to pause, he watched as a myriad of emotion danced behind her eyes as she saw his torso bare. He was lithe as with all elves, but years of combat and training had sculpted his chest and abdomen muscles perfectly.

“Have you seen all you need to see? All wounds heal in time Tauriel, this is no different” Thranduil spoke as he slowly began to retie the laces on his robe. Tauriel’s eyes moved with his hands as they covered each inch of skin, he found himself not disliking the look she wore, in fact it awoke something inside of him he thought long dead. “I will retire for the night captain, I would bid you do the same” he said, rising from his chair and walking towards his bedchamber, pausing before the door. “Goodnight Tauriel”.

“Good night my lord” she whispered in response, still kneeling by the chair he recently occupied, a slight flush across her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Tauriel/Kili shippers, sorry I just thought the relationship in the films was really forced and unbelievable. Though I could see why she rebelled in the films!


	4. Passion of a King

**Trials of Kingship**

 

Chapter IV – Passion Of A King

 

“Khamul is on the move my king, our scout parties have observed him moving ever closer. He seems to disagree with our southern expansion” Feren reported to the king. Thranduil sat patiently as the commander delivered the news, the report of the wraith and his actions did not surprise him. The forces of Dol Guldur were unlikely to sit idle whilst he steadily moved south, purging the forest of the creature’s filth as they went, it would only be a matter of time before it came to a pitched battle.

“Have additional warriors re-enforce the southern borders Feren, we will also send word to Lord Dain and Bard regarding the new developments. I would have them aware should Khamul move east” Thranduil replied, his deep voice echoing about his halls. Feren bowed and turned to leave, keen to carry out his king’s command, but the kings voice stopped him. “Should the wraith come forth commander, send for me. I will deal with him” he spoke, his voice held a threatening tone. Feren nodded in understanding, he knew better than to suggest otherwise for he was there the day Thranduil defeated Khamul at Dagorlad.

Thranduil remained in his throne, the previous night’s events with Tauriel plagued his mind, they had shared a moment when she examined his wounds, it was if something hung in the air as she had reached out to touch him. His mind turned to her confession that she felt for something, it caused him untold annoyance, yet he could not tell why all he knew was he felt a fire within him at that moment when the captain made to touch his chest. He sighed with mild frustration as his thoughts ran wild, his fingers danced on the handle of his sword, it often brought him comfort in times of distress. It was with these swords that he defeated the wraith so long ago, the elvish steel infused with mithril was one of the few forged weapons able to harm the Nazgul, though no one knew how to permanently slay one of the creatures.

He found his mind once again drifting to the captain, what question would she ask tonight he wondered. He had his own of course, but she would not answer this one, not yet anyway. Perhaps tonight’s conversation would take place in the royal gardens this evening, the warm summer nights allowed a perfect view of the stars, perhaps that would ease his troubled heart and mind. He asked the guard at the base of the stairs to his throne to pass on the message to Tauriel that he would meet her at the garden entrance that evening, with a bow the armoured guard departed to deliver his message.

His mind drifted towards thoughts of his son, he often wondered how Legolas was faring. It had been a few months since he had received word from the prince, he worried not for his safety, the king only missed his son’s presence within his halls. He rose from his throne and began to descend the stairs, having dealt with all his engagements for the day he intended to retreat to his chambers for a time and enjoy the late afternoon sun on his terrace. The halls of the elven king were quiet, most of the woodland elves would be in the gardens and enjoying the warm summers air, it brought the king joy to see his people enjoying themselves for too long had the creeping shadow caused them to be on guard.

It was not long before he was upon his Terrance with a glass of wine, watching over the forest as the sun light made the greens of the trees that much more vibrant. He could see the lonely mountain in the distance to the east, his peak reaching high into the sky, as beautiful as the landscape was he felt a sense of dread whenever he would look south, for leagues from Mirkwood lay Mordor. Thranduil could sense it as with all elves that the dark lord had returned to his fortress, unable to take physical form, yet his evil was unbound, the memory of that dark and desolate realm caused Thranduil to close his eyes in a bid to block the memories. He was certain the dark lord and placed Khamul at Dol Guldur for a purpose, given what happened on that day at Dagorlad it was clear, Sauron sought to treat Thranduil into expending his efforts on the Nazgul in vengeance for his father. He would be lulled into that tactical mistake, he would deal with the wraith, just not yet.

His gaze fell on the lonely mountain once more, after the battle for Erebor Thranduil, Dain and Bard met in the ruins of Dale to discuss a truce. It was no secret that both he and Dain had regretted the brief skirmish before Azog’s hordes arrived, not a fine moment for the elven or dwarven people to have raise a sword to one another, but it was Bard’s words which had brought the three peoples together. He remembered his exchange with the king under the mountain.

_“It’s no secret I dislike you pointy ears, but, leaping over the shield wall like that and surprising those orcs. Ha you should’ve seen their faces” Dain said with mirth in his voice. Thranduil said nothing but took a sip of his wine, the idea of sallying over the dwarven front line and into the horde was not his, Feren had argued that it would break the orc charge and disrupt their formations thus allowing the elf and dwarf armies to form up._

_“Our commander thought it wise, he summarised you would’ve been over run without aid. We all would have been, we allowed our feud to cost the lives of many good soldiers, for that I am sorry” Thranduil spoke with sincerity. The new high king eyed the elf for a moment, before nodding gravely._

_“Aye, that we did” replied the dwarf, a grim look etched in his face._

_“How heavy were you’re losses?” Thranduil asked. Dain sighed quietly and gently brought his mug of ale to his lips._

_“Of the five hundred I marched out with, only about seventy remain. How about yourself?” asked the dwarf between mouthfuls of drink._

_“Four hundred, not since the last alliance have the eldar experienced such loss” Thranduil replied, his heart heavy. It was his fault those souls lay dead._

_“I am sorry to hear, our people may to not see eye to eye, but I respect any warrior to takes up a blade to an orc, man, elf or dwarf” Dain replied, earning a nod of appreciation from Thranduil. The elf-king watched as something seemed to be weighing heavy on the dwarven kings’ features. “Thorin never stood by Thror when he withheld those gems of yours, he long argued the damage it would cause to our races. Alas, it appears that Thorin also became a victim of the sickness on that gold” Dain continued before reaching for a box beside him. Thranduil paused for a moment and observed the box, Dain seemed to sense his uncertainty and gestured for him to take it._

_As Thranduil opened the box he was for the first time in hundreds of years struck with amazement, there before him lay the gems of pure starlight. He turned to the dwarf, his emotionless mask far gone from his face._

_“I know losing your wife must have been painful, plenty of kings go to war for gold, but few for a necklace. I only hope this offers some small comfort, and I understand we exchanged blows not a day ago. I give this to you as a wrong written right, for the good of our people” spoke the dwarf king. The situation for them both difficult, for not a day ago had they crossed swords, but now someone who Thranduil had deemed an enemy, had gifted him something truly special._

_“I thank you Dain, you have no idea how much this means” Thranduil spoke, the dwarf king smiled at him briefly before standing from his seat._

_“Have good day, you pointy eared princess” chuckled Dain before walking from the room_

Those gems now rested safety within the elven king’s halls, under ever watchful guards. With the return of those most precious stones, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted, as though he could stop living in the past and finally look forward to the new world whatever the dangers may be. At last he felt he has put his wife to rest. Alas he had forgot himself, the sun had begun to set to the west, casting an amber glow about the forest as it slipped away. Tauriel would be here soon he thought, at the thought of the elleth his chest fluttered briefly which unsettled the elven king. _I have revisited much of the past of late, perhaps the memories of such events have had an affect on me_ he thought to himself, he remembered her insistence on checking his injuries, the flicker of untold emotion behind her eyes as she revealed his torso, the sudden interest in wishing to speak with him.

“My lord?” came the voice of one of his guards, assuming a blank expression once again he retreated from the balcony and entered his chambers. There the guard, garbed in silver scale armour and grey cloak stood in his doorway, the guard stood to attention rapidly as the king entered. “My apologises sire, when you did not answer I sought to confirm you were well” spoke the guard, his voice somewhat muffled by his helm.

“What is it?” Thranduil asked, ignoring the guard’s apology.

“Lady Tauriel is here to see you my king” replied the elf.

“You may send her in” Thranduil said calmly and strolled over to the two chairs in front of his large bookcase they had sat on the previous two evenings. He did not turn when he heard Tauriel enter the room, no instead he had two glasses of wine ready and was staring at the many books before him. “Do you read often Tauriel?” he asked. He heard her walk over to where he was stood and paused before the bookcase.

“As often as I can my lord” she replied softly.

“Do you have any favourites, perhaps a book I myself may not have read?” spoke the king, his voice smooth as silk as he lowered himself into his chair. He watched as Tauriel scanned the many books before her before she took sat in the seat before him.

“There is a book I have read recently, it tells the story of two people that are so different from one another. One dark and brooding, cursed even and one young and spirited, yet despite their differences they fall in love, thought it is hard at first and they have many trials before them. It is a personal favourite of mine” Tauriel said gently.

“I believe I know that book, have you read the authors sequel?” Thranduil asked, knowing exactly what book she was talking about.

“No, my lord?” said the elleth. The king reached for his bookcase and ran his finger along the spines of the books, tapping his finger on one before pulling it out.

“Here you are, keep it for as long as you like, but first, what is your question this evening” Thranduil said with a small smile. He chose to not refer to the previous night’s events _her hand but inches from my skin_ whispered his thoughts. Her smile was radiant and wide, her eyes dancing with joy, she quickly thanked him an set the book on her knee.

“News is you plan to do battle with the Nazgul Khamul, should he attack our borders. Is this true?” Tauriel asked, a trace of nervousness in her tone.

“I thought you wished to know of my past Tauriel, this is not the past” Thranduil replied, his voice level and deep.

“Not tonight my king, tonight I wanted to ask you this. I am captain of the guard, I wish to know so that I may protect you should it come to that” Tauriel replied with a disciplined tone, one he was used to hearing from her in all the years she served as captain.

“You will not be protecting me captain” he replied, his voice getting steadily louder. Her lips parted slightly at his words and tone. Perhaps she had got told comfortable because of these late-night talks.

“My lord?” she asked.

“Khamul is not some orc you can dispatch with an arrow, to fight with one of the nine is too battle the inner torment within yourself. A foul magic poisons the air about them, you feel nothing but despair and fear. No my dear captain, this is not a fight you can engage in, they are the most dangerous of his servants and Khamul his second most deadly” Thranduil spoke, Tauriel eyed the king carefully, would she listen he thought?

“I am no elfing my king, I can fight, you know this” she persisted.

“Enough! I will speak no more of this. The wraith is mine to deal with Tauriel, my duty alone” he said with a raised voice, rising from his chair and walking to one of his windows, peering out into the darkness. Why would see not let this go he thought, why did she care? “Why do you care Tauriel?”

“I’m sorry?” she whispered, her question so quiet he could barely hear it.

“Why do you care, before Erebor you could barely stand to be in my presence. Now you come to my chambers and listen the stories of an old elf, why?” he questioned again. He noticed the slight tremor of her lip and the hint of tears forming in her eyes.

“Do you truly not know?” she said evenly, struggling to hold her voice. He stared at her in confusion, his steely eyes assessing her like a lion would its prey. Her gaze was fixed on his, her wide eyes threatening to spill her tears. What was it he did not know?

“I know not what you speak” he replied. She turned her head away and rose from her seat, heading for the door. Thranduil watched her place a hand on the handle, he felt a strong urge to stop her from leaving. “Tauriel” he called after her.

“I will speak with you tomorrow my king, I need some time alone” she replied, with the book under her arm she opened the door and stepped out. “Thank you for the book” she said, before stepping out of his chambers. He stood still as a statue for what felt like an age, feeling a sense of longing as she walked away, longing he had not felt since his wife’s passing.

_Do you truly not know?_ Echoed in his mind over and over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit shorter this time!
> 
> Hope you leave a review!


	5. The King and The Wraith

** Trials of Kingship **

****

_Chapter V – The King and The Wraith_

The sounds of battle rung throughout the forest as the southern border garrison of Mirkwood held firm against the orcs that had sallied from Dol Guldur. The orcs threw themselves at the shield wall of the woodland elves, many of the foul creatures impaling themselves on the sliver tipped spears that presented from the elven line as a ticket of death, the foul black blood of the orcs coating the shining steel. Three times the orcs had charged the front line, which was situated atop a ridge, given the elves the advantage of the high ground. Each wave had been repelled with great valour of the elven warriors, with every advance or retreat the servants of evil were hammered with hails of amber fletched arrows. Thranduil surged through the thick forest into the sparse clearing just as the fourth assault was broken, his soldiers cheered in victory and at the sight of their king.

Thranduil watched as the servants of darkness fled, arrows hurtling after them, dropping scores in their wake. The position his forces had taken were favourable, the ridge was nestled between a narrow gap in the Mountains of Mirkwood which was about half a mile wide. The ridge allowed them advantage of sight over the vast clearing before them, littered with only small rocks and dead spindled trees, no foul thing Dol Guldur could cross it without being seen. The ridge had been fortified with layers of sharpened stakes and trenches in which the elves of the woodland realm stood behind, the front line stood at five rows of spearmen deep with three lines of swordsmen behind them and archers in the rear, covering the full length of the gap. The king observed the garrison, garbed in the colours of autumn, their robes and plate armour the colour of bronze whilst their crimson cloaks enhanced the colour, truly like the leaves of the falling season, echoing the fact that the time of the eldar in Middle Earth was coming to an end.

“My king Thranduil, it is an honour to see you here” spoke one of the elves who had stepped from the ranks of soldiers, bowing as he did.

“Commander Eylerion, I received word that you were beset by the forces of Dol Guldur and rode with all haste. Tell me of your report” he asked from atop his majestic elk as he watched the clearing.

“Four waves have been beaten back my king, the wargs and spiders have had been kept at bay by the defences before us. They have relied on orcs to reach the line” the commander replied, standing tall as he delivered his report. Thranduil observed the charred husks of warg and spider corpses in the clearing.

“Very good commander, is that everything” Thranduil asked, his eyes still not leaving the tree line, something stirred within the trees.

“He has not taken to the field my king, Khamul the Easterling has been leading the assault. We do not know why he has not taken to the fight yet, but we stand ready to face him” replied the elf. Thranduil felt a small measure of pride in the commander’s optimism, yet it was misplaced the Nazgul’s aura had little effect on the king, however he had seen the results in men and elves of fairer hearts.

“I admire your courage commander, this is no simple foe however. Leave Khamul to me, I have a personal debt with the wraith, and I have come to collect on that” he replied. The commander was about to speak again, but the familiar sound of the war horn of Dol Guldur rang out, the war cries of the foul creatures following shortly after. Thranduil watched as the commander bowed swiftly and started calling orders to the garrison, in unison the elven line responded as shields swung forward, spears were dipped, swords drawn, and arrows knocked. Thranduil dismounted his great elk, followed by his four royal guards and stood just behind the centre of the line. The orcs surged from the tree line in the distance, screeching and waving their crude weapons. It was the dark horseman that caught Thranduil’s eye, in that moment the leaders of their respective hosts gaze remained fixed on the other, the wrath then pointed his sword in the elven-king’s direction before urging his dread-steed forward.

“Kept the orcs from me, I will deal with this wretched creature” Thranduil issued the order to his personal guard, their armour a mirror of their fellow warriors, however coloured in the silver hue of the king’s guard. The order was understood, each warrior drew his curved sword and stepped to the side of their king. The thundering sound of charging feet became deafening as the orcs neared the ridge, the air was filled with the snap of bow string and the sound of hundreds of arrows scything through the air, seconds later the howls of pain and heavy crunch of armour being punctured filled the air as the arrows hit their targets. Four more volleys filled the sky and bought low hundreds of the orcs, who swarmed up the hill towards the line, some being impaled on the wooden stakes as others fell into the trenches and were trampled. Seconds later the orc horde once again threw themselves at the shield wall, goaded on by the fear of their master. It was not long before the Nazgul and his horse reached the top of the ridge as charged for the centre.

“Ranks withdraw and encircle” Thranduil called over the sound of steel on steel. As ordered the centre line slipped back a few paces to draw in the wraith and its horse, luring him to be surrounded on three sides and causing the dark foe to screech, lashing out with his sword. “Now!” on the order all the elven warriors thrust their spears into the undead horses’ flank, causing it to let out a shriek of agony before collapsing to the ground. Thranduil surged forward between his warriors, his royal guard just behind to assault the wraith. The orcs sought to aid their master but were pushed back by an aggressive counter attack as the elven line stepped forward.

The Nazgul rose from beneath its fallen horse and turned to the elven-king who descended upon it, his twin swords lashing out, beginning the second duel between the two warriors. Again, as at Dagorlad it was Thranduil who’s aggressive attacks forced Khamul on the defensive and pushed the Nazgul back, his royal guard stepped in to cover their kings’ flanks, cutting through any orc that dared approach as if they were children, each guard being veteran warriors from the last alliance. The fighting was brutal as the orcs were spurred on by the presence of one of the dark lords most powerful servants, but for all their savage might the elves of the woodland realm stood firm, their formation and line unbroken, each warrior taking heart at the sight of their king fighting beside them.  

“Your forest will burn oh great elven-king, none will stand before Sauron” came the hissing voice of Khamul as Thranduil parried a blow aiming for his head. His eyes assessed the wraith for any weakness, though it could not die by mortal means the Nazgul wore iron plate mail and was garbed in the typical black ragged cloaks of the nine, its appearance alone was enough to strike fear into the bravest of souls. Thranduil lashed out with his left hand and caught Khamul under his exposed armpit, causing the creature too hiss.

“My realm will not fall whilst I or any other eldar draw breath” he replied before renewing his assault, noting that the Nazgul hand improved his defence considerably. The orcs had become weary of approaching him as tens of bodies lay dead around his royal guard, their blades coated in the black blood of the orcs, his soldiers held firm with centuries of training shining through, never again would the folk of Mirkwood suffer losses like that day on Dagorlad.

“I slew your father, I shall now slay the son, perhaps one day, even your son” Khamul threatened. At the threat to his son something awoke in Thranduil, a white-hot burning rage. His swords became a blur as he chained each attack, orcs who made to move past and assault the line was split in two, beheaded or had limbs split as the elven-king brought his blades in a flurry of movement, his guards and warriors having to advance so that a gap did not form between them and the king. The Nazgul barely managed to parry each blow, weathering the storm from the elf who began to slow his assault. Thranduil knew the wraith was letting him expend his energy, waiting for an opening, _I will give you one_ he thought inwardly. He struck out with his left sword, exposing his weaker flank hoping to incite the creature. It worked.

In a flash the Nazgul thrust his blade into the elven-king’s side, his sword points manging to pierce joint where the breastplate was fastened causing Thranduil to grunt as the sword bit into his side. He heard his guards cry out in alarm and his warriors yell in anger as they unleashed the fury of the eldar upon the remaining orcs. He heard the Nazgul laugh with his rasping voice, but it ceased its mirth when the elven-king smirked. In an instant the king right arm slashed forward and rent through Khamul’s shoulder plate and cleaved through to his chest. For the second time the elven-king had defeated the wraith by luring him into a bait, the Nazgul’s form twitched and distorted before its spirit was flung from its holding, causing the armour to fall to the ground with a clatter.

Thranduil stood still for a moment, all around him the fighting had ceased to a sudden silence. He felt his side dampen with his own blood underneath his armour a fiend stinging sensation beginning to spread, the Nazgul’s sword was not tainted with the morgul curse, he felt none of the malice spread within his wound, a blessing. He raised his eyes to face the stunned orcs before him and the garrison, under his gaze the foul creatures flinched at the one that banished their dark master, the orcs feared little other than the darkest servants of Sauron yet in Mirkwood even the elven-king struck fear into their black hearts. Only the most brazen orcs had dared approach in the heat of battle, only to serve as a reminder of the king’s wrath as they lay slain upon the ground.  

He felt himself weaken as blood seeped from the wound at his side, yet he did not falter. Instead he slashed at the nearest orc, cleaving the head from its shoulders before it could react, he paused not as his blades spun around and slew another orc where it stood, hatred flowing through his veins at the spawn of Morgoth. Soon the corpses of many orcs lay before him and their savagery faltered before the elven-king, his silver-blonde hair twirling with him as he cleaved through orc flesh, a sight both beautiful and terrifying to behold. He severed the arm of the orc he fought before splitting its skull in two, as he withdrew his swords he heard the war cheer of his soldiers, the orcs were in full retreat, having been completely shattered. 

It was then and Thranduil fell to one knee, his vision starting to darken from the blood loss. He heard the muffled shouts of alarm from his warriors before he felt himself being lifted to his feet from either side. His arms were hoisted over the shoulders of two of the royal guard as they took him from the battlefield, he felt himself begin to weaken before finally his world went black.  

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Do you truly not know?_  

His eyes fluttered open as the final words Tauriel spoke to him echoed though his mind. He felt weak and nauseated, the room spun when he tried to move his head assessed his surroundings. He was in a small tent, he could hear the footfalls of armoured boots outside of the canvas walls as well as the chatter of the soldiers, it was then he felt a cool hand on his shoulder when he tried to move.  

“Rest my king, you lost a lot of blood and you are still weak. We thought we had lost you for a while” came a soft voice he thought familiar. Gently turning to the sound of the voice he saw Aylisa, the finest healer in all the of the Greenwood, sat on a chair by his bed as her warm face was smiling at him.  

“Where is Feren, must speak with him” he asked as he tried sitting up again but fell back as he felt a searing pain on his left side, grunting as he hit the pillow.  

“My king you will tear your stitches if you move too sharply” Aylisa scolded him, in all her years healing the king had been her worst patient. “I will bring him to you” with that she exited the tent, leaving the king alone with his thoughts. Whilst he was away from the world he heard her words over and over again echoing through his mind, taunting him at what she meant by those five words. He remembers the tension between them when she unlaced his robes to inspect his bruises, how his heart thundered in his breast as her hand hovered inches from his skin, the emotion in her eyes like fire, like desire. _No_ he thought to himself, she would not desire him, not after their history even as he shared his memories with her, even after spending evenings together in his chambers, _alone_.  

_Why do you deny it, why bury those feelings?_  

He closed his eyes and brought his thumb and index finger to the bridge of his nose, wanting the conflict within him to cease, he would rather face the Witch-king himself than confront the possible truth forming in his mind. Did he have feelings for his captain? _No,_ he thought, but he could not deny the feeling that rushed through him as she hovered inches from his skin, both hoping she would but lay her hand on him and that she would turn and run from the room at the same time, the steady increase of his beating heart whenever she enters the room, his firm gaze always seeking her out in a crowd. 

“My king?” Came the voice of Feren, breaking him from his thoughts. Thranduil nodded and waved the elf into the tent, having his foremost general fill him in on everything he had missed after he had fell unconscious. The orcs had broken completely, without Khamul to rally the weak-minded orcs to assault the elven line they soon succumbed in infighting and scattered. Thranduil ordered that the ridge be permanently reinforced, with stone fortifications to be built, with the dark lord mustering in the south the new borders would have to be ready for any further assaults from Dol Guldur.  

“We must return to my halls, tonight” spoke the king, wincing as he attempted to sit up. Feren looked at him with wide eyes and reached forward to aid his king.  

“You should not move for a few days my king, you cannot ride” Feren replied.  

“Are you my loyal commander or scolding healer” he snapped in response, he was not weak, and he would not have his people see him as such, not after such a victory. Feren always knew when not to deny his king, this was one of those moments.

“I will ready the horses and your elk my king” was the commanders reply, rising from his seat and leaving the tent. Thranduil winced again as he sat fully upright, his wound deep. _This will be a long ride_ he thought to himself. He did not want to admit to himself, that the reason for his hurried return was to amend the way in which he and Tauriel parted. With a final effort he gently pulled himself to a stand, steadying himself as a wave of nausea hit. _I can rest back at my halls_ he thought to himself.

The ride back to the elven-king’s halls had been slow, a number of times Thranduil nearly fell from the saddle, his great elk moving its large antlers to prevent him completely falling, the creature had formed a close bond with the king, much like his sire had before him and for that Thranduil was grateful. It was not long until they finally arrived at the gates to the palace, the sentries on duty opening the doors as the king and his royal guards rode in upon their mounts. Feren and his guards attempted to assist Thranduil to his chambers, but the king refused, instead they kept close to him while they walked to his rooms. Thranduil attempted with all his grace to walk tall and proud, like his people expected, there was thunderous applause from the people around the halls at the king’s return, the news spreading of his defeat of Khamul.

For all the elves cheering he did not see the red haired elleth standing amongst the crowds, her eyes like glass as tears of relief threatened to spill, and though the king did his upmost to appear well, the concerned expression on Feren’s face betrayed the truth of the king’s condition. Once they reached his chambers, two of the royal guard came and stood either side of the doors as Feren and the remaining guard Faendil escorted the king through the doors, only then when out of sight did the elven-king fall to his knee in exhaustion.

“My king, I will send for Aylisa at once. Faendil help me bring him to his bed chamber” Feren spoke to his fellow guard. Thranduil did not even resist, his body was weary and battered, the wound on his side beginning to burn once more.

“Send for Tauriel, I must … deliver an order” he spoke, trying to ignore the growing pain in his side. He hated this, being aided to his bed by his guards. Never had he been so weak. Feren knew not to argue, only to do as commanded, he ordered Faendil to stand watch just outside of the bed chamber whilst he went in search of Tauriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was greatly inspired when writing this and feel like it is my best chapter so far.
> 
> Reviews/Comments would be great to see!


	6. Promise Me

**Trials of Kingship**

Chapter VI – Promise Me 

The murmuring throughout the elven-king’s halls echoed about the caverns as the elves of the woodland realm discussed their kings return, many discussing the news of the victory in the south. They spoke of the kings’ valour as he faced Khamul the Easterling, the wraith had an infamy within the forest for having slain Oropher at Dagorlad all those years ago, though few who witnessed the moment remained within Middle Earth the story was told over the years. It was in this throng of elves that Tauriel stood with a few of her guards, whilst the people were cheery of their warrior’s victory, they had seen the look of Feren’s face and the proximity in which he stood to Thranduil.  

 

“You think the king was wounded?” asked Flevedir in hushed tones so that the crowds did not hear him.

 

“I am not sure, his normal air was not about him either, strained almost. His guard looked concerned as well” spoke another of the guard. Tauriel ignored their speculations, her gaze was firmly fixed on where the king and his guards and headed, she too had noticed Feren’s anxious look. She cursed inwardly at the way she left that night, _do you truly not know?_ Where her final words to him on that final night, she was a fool to think he would see her feelings for him, why would he look upon a lowly Silvan elf like her. The murmuring died down instantly and she heard the whispers of “Commander” cascade throughout the crowd, getting closer with each voice.

 

“Captain Tauriel, the king wishes to speak with you urgently” came the voice of commander Feren. The crowd was silent, all eyes now focusing on the elleth, she swallowed and steadied herself, turning to the commander.

 

“Very well, lead on commander” she spoke, her voice firm and professional, as one would expect when reporting to a superior. Without a word the commander turned on his heel and walked back the way he came, Tauriel equalling his pace fell in just behind him, she nodded to her guards as she walked by them and as expected the crowd of elves began to murmur quietly as to the purpose of her presence. Feren walked swiftly along the high pathways towards the kings chambers, his walk was typical of a high ranking officer with one hand resting upon the hilt of his beautiful sword and the other swaying back and forth in time with his steps.

 

Not a word was spoken as they walked, leaving Tauriel to her thoughts. How would the king be with her, they had spoken not since that night, she felt her chest constrict as they neared the chambers. _He feels nothing for you, he is just lonely_ came the nagging voice at the back of her mind, plaguing her doubt to grow. They stopped before the oak doors that led into the king’s rooms, she was surprised to see the royal guards still in their war gear as they stood either side of the doors, their gazes fixed ahead. Feren stepped forward and pushed one of the doors open and beckoned for Tauriel to enter, as she stepped into the room she felt the memories coming back from that night.  

 

_“Why do you care Tauriel?” he asked, his voice deep and questioning._

_“I’m sorry?” she whispered, her question so quiet she was not sure herself if it leaves her lips._

_“Why do you care, before Erebor you could barely stand to be in my presence. Now you come to my chambers and listen the stories of an old elf, why?” he questioned again. She felt a slight tremor of her lip and hot sting of tears forming in her eyes._

_“Do you truly not know?” she said evenly, struggling to hold her voice. Had he been so cold for so long he did not see? Not see how to she looked at him, how to spoke to him of late? She shivers inwardly at his gaze, his eyes seemingly staring into her soul, it intoxicated her so._

_“I know not what you speak” he replied. She turned her head away and rose from her seat, heading for the door lest her emotions get the better of her. She felt his eyes on her as she left, silently wishing her would reach out and stop her. “Tauriel” he called after her, causing her heart to stop, she wanted to turn around and go to him, but he could not see, why would he see?_

Feren bid her to take a seat and left the room, she sat and waited patiently, all the while her head swimming with why she was summoned to his chambers. Her keen hearing could pick up voices coming from his bed chambers, unable to resist the lure she moved closer to the door, hoping to hear more.

 

“You were reckless today my king, I told you that you required rest, you were weak before you rode back here, do you understand you could’ve perished?” came a soft feminine voice from behind the door, Tauriel felt a flare of jealousy race through her at the voice.

 

“Do you scold the warriors this much? I needed to return here” came Thranduil’s deep voice, it set a fire within Tauriel’s stomach and spread to her chest and to her dismay and satisfactory, lower.

 

“Just like you had to allow that cursed creature to pierce your side with his sword? Sometimes I often wonder if you seek death, for your actions in battle often portray such an ambition” came the scolding voice again. Tauriel felt fear rise within her when she heard he had been injured, it took every ounce of willpower to not burst into the room. It was silent for a moment, almost like the king was giving thought to the statement.

 

“What if I was?” came a quiet reply. “what left have I to go on?”

 

“You cannot say this! What of your kingdom, your people? Your son? We all need you my king, we always have” replied the lady, at first her voice was alarmed but turned gentle and sympathetic. Tauriel felt tears form in her eyes had his words, had he given up on life?

 

“I would not be the first to fade from grief Aylisa, the kingdom survived my father’s passing it would survive mine. Our people are strong, they need not me to endure” came his reply, followed by a slight exhale of breath. “As for Legolas, he has left, I chased him away my greatest shame and an insult to my beloved queen. How would she look at me if I could ever see her again?” his voice low, broken almost.

 

“My king” the lady said softly “You are not like those that have faded, you Fea is too strong for you to just go. The kingdom is strong because of you, your father built a great realm in peacetime, you have led it through the darkest of days, you brought them home from Mordor, you have defended us with naught by your own hand where others have rings of power. Legolas has already lost his mother, don’t have him lose his father also” she finished, her voice almost pleading.

 

“I will think on all you have said Aylisa, thank you for tending to my wounds” Thranduil replied, his voice returning to formality once more.

 

“Very well, I shall send Tauriel in on my way out, and remember, the elves of this realm need you” the maiden spoke, her voice growing as she neared the door. Tauriel quickly stepped back a few paces and pretended to be studying the king’s bookcase, the door to his bedchamber open quietly and out stepped the maiden the voice belonged too. Tauriel felt her heart sink when she saw the visage before her, never had she seen such beauty before, the maidens flowing silver-blonde hair reached her waist and her pale blue eyes shone like the summers sky. How could Tauriel compare to such a beauty.

 

“The king is waiting to speak to you Tauriel, have a pleasant evening” spoke Aylisa, her voice kind and a wide smile adored her flawless face, though a slight waver behind her eyes betrayed the sorrow of what she had heard from the king. Without another word she left the chambers, leaving Tauriel to stand alone, her breath suddenly becoming heavy with anticipation. Steeling herself she quickly walked towards the kings door and without thought opened the door and stepped inside before she lost her nerve. Having never entered his bedchamber her eyes scanned the room swiftly before they settled on his form, her breathe caught at the sight of him. He lay on his large bed draped in heavy blankets from the waist down, from the waist up he wore a tunic that was unbuttoned at the front which showed off his sculpted chest and heavily bandaged abdomen. She felt the burning sensation from earlier renew its course through her body, she felt her breath hitch in her throat, if Thranduil noticed, he did not say anything.

 

“You will have to excuse my appearance Tauriel, I fear my journey back has caused my wound to reopen, Aylisa was just re-applying my bandages” Thranduil started, breaking the silence. Tauriel felt the surge of envy come to her heart again, she knew it was wrong, the healer was only doing her duty to her king.

 

“You will not leave us?” Tauriel said suddenly. Thranduil’s head tilted ever so slightly and his lips parted a little, his eyes slid shut for a moment before they re-opened, his gaze fixed on her. She raised her head high, trying to appear confident before her king despite the involuntary shivers coursing through her body at his gaze. _Why does this affect me so?_ Her thoughts echoed about her head.

 

“You were eavesdropping?” he said, his voice low like when he was about to unleash his temper.

 

“No my lord, I was told to wait in your main chamber. I overheard, I meant not to pry” she replied quickly, they had only recently begun developing a form of understanding, she did not want to lose that, not with how she felt. He watched her without a blink from his storm like eyes, both terrifying and beautiful to her, what those eyes have seen. Feeling brazen she steadied herself and asked again. “You will not leave us?” he still sat silent, for the first time she could see emotion behind his eyes. “You cannot” she whispered, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her, _you cannot leave me_ she thought.

 

“I ask you again Tauriel, why do you care so much? You answered me not last time, I would have my answer now” he spoke his head turning straight again and edge ever forward.

 

“Are you really so willing to fade you do not see?” she spoke her voice elevated, the force behind her words causing his eyes to widen a little further. She stood there, her whole being shaking slightly, her fear of losing him becoming overwhelming as she looked out of his window, the moonlight cascading through.

 

“It is not that I do not see, it is that whether I believe what I am seeing” he replied, her head turned straight to him, a glimmer of hope beginning to fill her heart. His eyes were locked on hers, unwavering, causing her to tremble further, never had she felt her body react in such ways to how it was feeling now, her chest fluttered, and her lower stomach burned. His mouth had parted ever so slightly, his eyes wide open before her, appearing to wait on baited breath.

 

“And what is it you think you see?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

 

“I see something I thought lost for nearly two-thousand years, thought I cannot be certain, it cannot be possible” he replied, and for the first time Tauriel saw her king truly vulnerable, uncertainty graced his beautiful face and the stern look of his eyes faltered. The fluttering in her chest grew and the fire within her became unbearable, he was so close, but was he thinking the same as she?

 

“Will you leave us? To the sorrows of the world” she asked again, too fearful to push further as tears slowly fell from her eyes.

 

“I will not fade, if I am too leave this Middle Earth it will be at the edge of a sword, like my father before me” said the king, his tone softening.

 

“Is that why you allowed the Nazgul to strike you? You hoped for death?” her voice wavering now, the realisation that that night could’ve been her last with him had he fallen.

 

“I did what I had to, do you not know how many would have fallen if I had not banished him? I love my people Tauriel, hard as that might be to believe, I would give my life if it would spare but one of them” he snapped back, clearly tired for the lecturing for his actions on the field of battle.

 

“And we love you!” she shouted back, hot tears streaked down her face as she stared at him. “I --” she sobbed her confession, turning away from him before he could react, she wanted to tell him how she felt, but could see take the rejection? Why would he love someone like her?

 

“You what Tauriel?” he asked, his deep voice echoing around the room.

 

“I don’t know what I would do if you were gone” she whispered in reply.

 

“Come here” he spoke calmly, as she turned around she saw he had laid a hand on the space in the bed beside him, her eyes widened at what he was asking.

 

“My lord, it would not be proper for I to..”

 

“Sit” he commanded. She nodded gently and made her way over to the bed and carefully sat on the edge of the mattress and turned to him. He sighed gently and put out his hand for her to take, she eyed him questioningly, but he took no heed and gently took her slender hand into his and gently pulled her closer to him. She did not resist as she slid across the blankets until she was but inches from his side, her eyes met with his, causing her breath to quicken. His next move surprised her more as he gently placed an arm around her shoulder, easing her down to rest her head on his own before allowing his hand to drift to her lower back.

 

“Your wound my lord” she whispered, she was resting on his left side which is where the Nazgul had inflicted his near fatal wound.

 

“Worry not for my wound Tauriel” he replied as he looked up at the ceiling of his chamber. As the tears began to subside she could feel the heat pooling within her stomach and lower regions, involuntarily squeezing her thighs together for some small release of tension. She found that her hand left had fallen to his chest, partly covered by his open tunic. _This is sweet torment_ she thought as she again squeezed her thighs together. But for all her need and desire she remembered his words about death.

 

“Promise me” she whispered, her voice wavering with emotion as she searched his eyes. He turned to face her with a questioning look.

 

“What would you like me to promise, dear captain” he replied smoothly.

 

“That you will stay, that you will think of death no longer. Promise me, for me” she whispered again, tears starting to fall again. He studied her for a time, a flutter of emotions crossing his face.

 

“For you” he said finally, she choked back a sob of relief and gently buried her head into his neck, _how where they this close?_ He rested his head atop hers, her lips wet just mere breaths from the smooth column of his neck, she desired to close her lips upon his skin, but not now, not yet. “Stay with me tonight?” he whispered to her ear, causing her to shudder.

 

“The people..”

 

“Will say nothing, but you do not have to stay here if you do not wish it” he said softly. She eyed him for a moment before gently placing her head back to his neck, it was all that was needed, a wordless acceptance. She felt him draw the blankets over them, protecting her from the cold, before they gently fell into slumber with her encircled by his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to rewrite that last bit, hope you enjoyed!


	7. We Are Not Our Scars

Trials Of Kingship

Chapter VII – We Are Not Our Scars

_He stood before the dying beast as it thrashed about in its death throes, its scaly hide marred with deep wounds from Thranduil’s blades and arrows from the hunting party. The attack had been swift from the elves, the fire drake was taken unawares as archers peppered his eyes with arrows, not allowing the creature to ever settle for a defence._

_“Ada!” Thranduil heard from over his shoulder, turning to see Legolas step from behind the rocks that his archers had used for cover. The sky was split with a screech from the fire drake as with its last breathes it unleashed a stream of flames from its maw, surging towards the prince. The king moved like a blur, throwing his son from the flames path, before a rush of searing pain spread across his left side._

Thranduil jerked up from his bed, his breath rapid and skin clammy with perspiration, the wound on his side agony. He felt a warm touch rest on his right shoulder and another on the left side of his chest, an alarmed voice spoke in his ear causing him to look to the sound, everything still a blur to him.

“My king? Its ok you are safe” the voice whispered soothingly in his ear, calming him. The room began to come into focus, first he saw the slender hands upon his shoulder and chest, then he felt the warm breath tickling his neck, then he saw her sat beside him, holding him close.

“Tauriel” he whispered to her, he remembered her had asked her to stay with him. The memory always came after battle, without fail, without mercy.

“I am here my lord” she spoke softly whilst gently smoothing his hair from his face. He suppressed a shudder at the action, not from disgust, but from how natural it felt for her hands to be on him. Without thought he placed his head in the crook of her neck, much like she did earlier when he drew her close to him. He felt her shiver and noticed the muscles in her neck move as he breath became shallow, he was overcome with the desire to place his lips on her beautiful throat, too give in on his denial, he wanted her, cared for her. With his thoughts brazen, he gently pressed his lips to her neck before drawing back just a little, he heard a intake of breath from her and felt her lower her head as her warm breath tickled his ear. He placed a second kiss slightly lower down her neck, before a third and then a fourth, he expected her to push him away, instead he felt her hands grip his powerful shoulders and her lips brush the tip of his pointed ear.

“Forgive me” he breathed against her neck. He felt her body shivering against him, her hands still gripping his shoulders firmly. He drew his head back and looked for her eyes, they were half closed when he first made contact, as she opened them slowly he saw the heavy desire swimming within them. His desire for her only increased at her gaze, but rather than seize her lips in flaming passion he gently place his hands either side of her jaw, his fingers grazing across her neck as he leaned in and gentle placed his lips to hers. She quickly brought her hands to his neck and rested them there as she responded to his slow kiss, neither of them pushing to far for fear of pushing the other. He felt Tauriel begin to tremble and watched as she tensed, and her thighs shifted together, like she had earlier in the evening, he gently drew back from her, his breath somewhat laboured.

“What did you dream” she asked breathlessly, still reacting from his lips.

“Dragon-fire, it haunts me after battle, its memory burned into me” Thranduil replied. The damage done unto him that day was agony, the only saving grace was that Legolas had not been the consumed by the flames. It was the grace of elven magic that he could hide his terrible scars, he could barely look at them himself, he would not subject anyone else to see.

“Would you show me?” she whispered her eyes searching up to his own, her emotions clear as starlight to him in this moment.

“Only my guards and Legolas have seen such scars, I would not subject your eyes to just horror” he replied softly, looking away from her. He felt her hand gently catch his face and turn it to face him.

“We are not our scars, you have suffered much for us. Share your pain, I will not shy away” she spoke tenderly, her emerald orbs flicking between his ice blue ones. He slid his eyes shut, before finally allowing the glamor to fade, waiting to hear a shriek in horror, when no sound was made he opened his eyes and studied her reaction. She had a gentle look upon her face, her eyes shimmered with tears as she studied his bare wounds, carefully she went to touch his scarred cheek but Thranduil flinched away and closed his eyes once more, allowing the glamor to reform.

“Now you have seen me for what I truly am Tauriel, marred and imperfect, much like I have been in life these last few thousand years” he whispered, Tauriel made to speak but he placed a slender finger on her lips. “You are beautiful, even the starlight wanes in your presence and ever will it so” came his soft voice, his hand tracing her face as his eyes roamed her beautiful features, his thumbs catching the tears that fell from her eyes. She reached up and held his wrists as she looked up at him with adore in her own.

“You are not imperfect nor are you marred, I see an ellon who has stood against the darkness without fear and has not faltered. You are not your scars my lord, you are the shield and sword of our people, never once have you wavered, and never once have you failed us” she replied, her voice wavering before she placed a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back again. “I do not see this beauty of mine you speak of, there are many elleth who are fairer than I, I am not worthy of such praise from you” she finished.

“If only I could show you how I see you, to me you are beyond compare” he spoke, before his lips twitched upwards into a small smile. “Whoever this ellon is you sought to win the affection of is truly blessed” he chuckled, resting his forehand upon hers. Stay with me tonight, until morning he thought to himself. Not giving her a chance to answer he echoed his thought aloud to her. “Will you stay with me?” he asked gently.

“Of course,” she whispered in reply. He gently eased back to his pillows and pulled her with him, never had he been some close with someone for so long, she did not resist him and lay her head on his firm breast, her hand gently resting on his stomach, gently caressing the bandages. He enjoyed the warmth of her body against his, the softness of her hair and the delicate caress of her hand on his stomach, it had been so long since her had held someone, loved someone. _Is it love? Are you ready to die for it?_ Mocked his mind, echoing the same words he said to her at Dale. Of course he would die for it, alone he went to Ravenhill, he would’ve slew Bolg and Azog himself if it meant saving her, despite this, he felt a ache of guilt for beginning to love another. She would understand, she would not want you to walk this world alone. Forever she will be bond to Mandos. “You never told me what happened at Erebor, I arrived so late in the battle with Legloas” she started.

“Few here speak of Erebor, for some the grief is still to near, we lost many that day” Thranduil lamented, the memory of the battle still raw for him. So much death. “Our losses would’ve been far once also if we had not retreated to Dale, the dwarves lost so much that day” he continued.

_His blade severed the head of an orc that had managed to break through the front line, both the elves and dwarves were being suffocated by the tide of orcs that surged from the holes created by the worms. They would not win the battle from this position, the formations were loose and breaking, the situation was becoming dire and quickly. Thranduil saw Bard and his men surge towards the ruins of Dale, perhaps they would stand a better chance there._

_“Feren!” he called to his commander, the elf ran towards his king, his blade already coated with orc blood._

_“Yes, my king” he asked._

_“Order a withdraw to Dale, ensure they do not see the back of us. Bring be two-hundred of our finest swordsmen to me, I will clear a path into the city” he ordered._

_“What of the dwarves my lord?” Feren asked as the king turned away. The elven-king looked over his shoulder towards the dwarven army, they were being completely overwhelmed, Dain had been dismounted but was fighting with a savagery that only the dwarves possessed._

_“They are cut of from us, they will fall back to Erebor. If we do not fall back we will lost our army, the women and children in Dale will be slaughtered. I would not have that added to my failures today Feren.” He replied before urging his elk forward towards the bridge of the city. He surged across it, cutting down the straggling orcs in his wake, his mount slammed its great antlers into a line of orcs who sought to block his path. Working in tandem his elk lifted the orcs high into the air before with one sweep of his sword, they all fell to the ground without their heads. He saw the orcs amassing just inside the date, he surged through the threshold when his beloved elk cried in pain and fell beneath him, any lesser rider would’ve collapsed on to the ground, yet he took the brunt of the force on his right shoulder and carried it into a roll._

_“That’s the elven-king!” squealed one of the orcs as it rapidly back away. The others began to encircle Thranduil like a pack of wolves would its prey._

_“His head is mine, I’m sure his flesh will taste good too” growled the largest of the orcs. Thranduil slowly rose his head to meet his eyes with the filth before him, he could hear the boots of his soldiers not far behind him, as his gaze locked with that of the large orc it hesitated for a moment, its last mistake. In a blur Thranduil cut down three of the nearest orcs, before the others had a chance to recover, as they did the elven swordsmen accompanying the king surged in behind them and cut a bloody swathe through them. The melee was brutal with both sides taking losses, for all the skill of the elder, there was little they could do against such numbers, they just had to hold until the main host arrived. At the centre Thranduil fought like a man possessed, nothing was safe from his wrath not even the larger half trolls, his sword cleaved through their knees before his slashed out their throats, the black blood of the orcs flowed like a river._

_“King Thranduil!” came a familiar voice. Bard and his band of men came through the ruins and joined the small elven force in their struggle._

_“My army withdraws to the city, we will be able to hold them here. I will position my archers on the higher levels. Use the streets to your advantage, orcs rely on numbers not strength, rob them of that and you will have a better chance” Thranduil spoke to the man of Laketown._

_“As you say” Bard replied before ordering his men to follow him. Thranduil assessed the battle around him, of the two-hundred he brought with him, only about fifty remained. The sight of dead elves in the snow brought an overwhelming grief to his heart as well as a burning rage, for all the dead however, countless orcs lay slaughtered around them, for every one of the eldar that was slain the orcs paid for that victory with many of their own. The horn of Mirkwood sounded as the re-enforcements arrived at the ruins, with Feren at the head of the host._

_“Get our warriors in position, make the orcs fight for every inch of ground they gain. Call your company to me” he ordered swiftly, he had little time. Without word Feren reached for his horn and sounded two calls._

_“What do you intend to do my lord?” Feren asked._

_“Slay an orc my dear commander” he replied before setting off with a small company of archers and his royal guards. He would tell no one where they were going, he needed his forces here not following him. He would do what the dwarves had failed to, the defiler would die by his sword, if no one else’s. As his company marched through the ruins and headed for Ravenhill, a familiar voice called out before him. Tauriel._

_“You will go no further! You will not turn away, not this time” Tauriel said with venom. He felt anger build up within him at her words, she knew nothing of the losses, nothing of the pain that occurred, that was still occurring._

_“Get out of my way!” he warned, he heard his elves behind him shift, ready to intervene if needed._

_“The dwarves will be slaughtered” she said, her voice wavering. He needed her to move, if Azog escaped then the losses for today would count for nothing. He adopted his cold gaze, one that had carried him through all the years of sorrow._

_“Yes, they will die, today, tomorrow, one year hence, one-hundred years from now. It matters not, they are mortal” he spoke in a low voice, the threatening tone behind it clear as day. In a flurry of movement Tauriel had nocked her bow, an arrow aimed at his throat, her face etched in anger, behind him her heard more bows being drawn in his defence._

_“You think your life is worth more than theirs? When there is no love it in it, there is no love in you” she seethed. He stopped for a moment, how wrong she was with those words, how wrong indeed. In an instant his blade whipped through the air, cleaving her bow in two, leaving the elleth standing there in shock as it collapsed on the floor. He was on her within a moment, his sword at her heart._

_“What do you know of love? Nothing” he snapped, his voice wavered on his last word. The memory of his dear wife coming to him. “What you feel for that dwarf, is not real. Not in thousands of years as an elf raised a weapon to another, would you wish to go down that path? Like the Noldor? Kinslayers?”_

“You know what occurred from there” he finished gravely, the memory of holding his sword forever carved into his memory. He felt her head leave his chest as she leaned up to come level with him, her eyes showing her guilt and sorrow at his tale.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going? I could’ve helped you” she whispered. He knew why, she would’ve insisted on coming, with fighting Azog beside him, he didn’t want her harmed, he didn’t want another elven life taken. Worst of all, he did not want to witness her with Kili, though he did not understand the depth of his feelings then.

“I could not lose another, we had lost to much that day Tauriel. Anyway, enough tales of woe and war, I have seen enough to last a life time and a fear worse is yet to come” he replied, his hand brushing a stray hair from her face and tucking it behind her hair. Neither had commented on their touches or the kisses they had shared, words we not needed, not tonight at least. He noticed she was still dressed in her guard’s uniform and still wore her boots. “There are some more comfortable cloths here in my chambers, I can get you some if you would like?” he offered. She blushed, something he found breathtakingly beautiful.

“Its ok my king, I have lighter clothes underneath” she replied whilst sitting up. She stepped off the bed and removed her boots, before unbuttoning her leather chest guard and thicker outer coat. Thranduil watched with interest as her coat fell away, beneath she wore a light green tunic and pale brown breeches, she stood at the edge of the bed, seemingly waiting for permission. “I apologise for my attire, I had not expected to be here upon my return from patrol” she said, clearly feeling somewhat out of place.

“My dear Tauriel, I am hardly dressed for receiving myself, worry not. You look wonderful as you are” he replied with a small smile, her cheeks were rose coloured at his statement. He did not fail to notice that her eyes drifted to his exposed chest once more, causing his smile to form a smirk. “Will you not join me?” he asked gently. Without further word she slid back onto the bed and returned to her position next to him, he chuckled internally at their situation, not two weeks ago when she first approached him in the throne room did he think they would be here. He gently lifted her chin and placed a tender kiss on her lips, the sound of her losing her breath for a moment taunted him, he pulled away slowly least he lose all control. “Goodnight Tauriel” he whispered.

“Goodnight Thranduil” she replied, her head returning to his neck. It was the first time she had addressed him by his name and not title he thought, before he relaxed back and let sleep claim him once more. Hopefully no nightmare would plague him this night.

……

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	8. Ever My Heart Aches

**Trials Of Kingship**

 

Chapter VIII – Ever My Heart Aches

 

“My king we have word from the southern border, the orcs have begun to stir again as expected, though they do not seem to risk approaching the fortifications being built” Feren spoke as he followed Thranduil through the halls of his palace. The elven-king was dressed in a fine silver tunic and black cloth breeches and boots, in his hands were his twin blades that had served him well through countless battles.

 

“Good, see that the garrison is rotated regularly, I will have no jaded warriors on the defences. The enemy will seek to hit us there.” Thranduil replied, the orcs enemy would not be able to resist the host that entranced the pass. His pace swift as he walked towards the hall of swords, eager to spar.

 

“I admire my king’s need for training. You however are the finest swordsman in Mirkwood, perhaps Middle Earth you can afford to rest a while longer” argued Feren. The king had only been cleared for exercise not an hour ago by Aylisa and had wasted no time in grabbing his blades.

 

“Flatter me not Feren, one can never not benefit from practice. I believe the finest swordsman on this Middle Earth would be that of Glorfindel, unless you know of anyone else who has slain a balrog in a duel?” Thranduil asked without looking at his commander, he waited not for an answer and when arriving at the hall of swords, pushed the heavy oak doors open.

 

The hall was not empty as he would’ve hoped as guards from the palace, woodland patrol and royal military all paused their drills and spars to see their king enter. There was sudden silence as the king studied his people, they all stood at attention their heads bowed, the sound of Feren’s footsteps broke the silence as he stopped directly behind his king and let out a brief sigh.

 

“Looks like we have an audience today my king, unless you would like me to show them out?” asked the commander. Thranduil said nothing, but instead walked to the centre of the hall and readied his blades.

 

“Who would spar with me today?” he asked, recalling his father once doing the same when he was but a child. No elf moved for a moment until one of the palace guards stepped forward, wearing the armour of silver scales that signified his position. Murmuring started all about the hall as the elves moved to sit at the side, eager to see their king show his skills with a blade, it was then that Thranduil noticed Tauriel enter the hall with her usual company of guards, their eyes met for a moment, so many unspoken words flowing between them. His thoughts drifted to their night together two weeks ago, the feel of her body next to his as he slept, her lips on his, her eyes full of adore even after showing his scars. He was brought into the present when his opponent unsheathed his sword.

 

“Haethlr if I am correct” Thranduil asked gently. The guard removed his helmet which covered all but his eyes and bowed to him.

 

“Yes, my king, it would be my honour to spar with you” spoke the elf politely.

 

Without another word the king held his swords down at the ground and waited for his opponent to strike, the guard took the bait and covered the distance between himself and king with two strides, spinning his blade towards the Thranduil’s neck. The elven-king parried Haethlr’s blows with ease, never giving ground despite the guard attempting to push him back. After a few minutes and as if bored by the duel, Thranduil swiftly disarmed the guard before bringing the tip of his sword to his throat.

 

“You fight well Haethlr, a few more years and you will best me I am sure” Thranduil spoke gently and nodded to his defeated opponent, earning the guard a round of applause. He did not stop there however, he duelled many of the elves present and bested them all with ease, he was one of the oldest elves in Middle Earth and his father had him train with a sword since his fiftieth year. _Move your feet son, only a man or dwarf fights so rigid_ echoed his father’s words as he sparred.

 

Feren stood against the wall of the hall as he watched his king defeat another challenger, his heart was elated that the king was taking joy in something of late. To his left he noted a group of the woodland guard, garbed in their brown leather and scaled armour watching the sparring intently, though none more so than Tauriel. Her eyes seemed alive as they followed Thranduil’s movements, her mouth slightly parted and unturned in a small smile, he turned away and thought nothing of it after all, many of the elleth in the kingdom wore similar expressions when looking to their king.

 

Thranduil swatted his last opponent’s sword away and brought his sword up, ending the duel. Congratulating his opponent, he turned to see where Feren had gone to, after having had enough of practicing for the day. As his eyes scanned the room he caught Tauriel’s gaze again, they had not spoken outside of reports and professional dealings since the night he had asked her to stay by his side. They had both not spoken of their kisses or words of affection the following morning, not out of regret, no, Thranduil wanted to savour the build-up, every painstaking moment of it. He saw the fire behind her eyes as she stared back at him, taking no more of it he walked over to her, ignoring the looks from her patrol.

 

“Captain Tauriel, I require your presence this evening. I have some new patrol routes I’d like your view point on” he started, his head held high and his voice even, his people expected nothing less from him, he watched as understanding of his words flittered behind her eyes. _Beautiful emerald eyes_. “Just before dusk, don’t be late” he finished, she had risen and bowed before him as he stopped before her, her stance straight and head held high, as was expected from a soldier.

 

“Of course, my king” she replied, her tone even but there was an unmistakable glint behind her eyes at the invitation. He merely nodded before walking towards where Feren was standing.

 

“I would like to speak with you in my chambers commander” he spoke, Feren merely nodded and fell in behind his king, leaving the hall of swords. Their stroll was unhindered as they made to Thranduil’s rooms, the king could sense that Feren was curious as to why he had been summoned to his chambers, truth be told and much to Thranduil’s displeasure, he found himself noticing he had become quite a recluse ever since Legolas had left. As they approached his rooms he opened the great oak doors and stepped inside, holding the door open for the commander.

 

“Take a seat Feren, would you like some wine?” Thranduil asked as he walked to his desk, taking a tall crystal decanter of wine and pouring himself a glass and looked back at his guest, who stood like he was awaiting orders. “And for Eru’s sake sit, do not stand on ceremony”

 

“Yes my king, that would be wonderful” replied Feren, who seemed to relax and little and took a seat on one of the plush chairs within the kings living space. Thranduil nodded and poured a second glass before handing it to the commander and took one of the other seats, crossing one leg over the other and sitting upright, ever a kingly stance.

 

“You may wonder why I have asked you here” the elven-king started. Feren took a sip from the wine he was offered and brought it to rest on his lap, waiting for his kings’ word. “Truth be told I have spent many centuries in my solitude in isolation from everyone, even my son” he continued, his talks with Tauriel had opened his eyes, that company was not in fact, unpleasant.

 

“My king you have many burdens, the people do not judge you so. You are beloved by us all” Feren spoke, hoping to ease his lord’s concerns.

 

“Never the less, I have neglected the people closest to me. One of them being you my dear commander” Thranduil stated, taking a drink from his wine, the sweet warm liquid coating his mouth.

 

“M-my lord?” stuttered the commander, almost spilling his wine in shock, earning him an amused look from the king, who rose from his chair to pace the room.

 

“You were there with me at Dagorlad were you not Feren, you were with me at Gundabad, Barad-Dur, The Black Gates, all these years you have fought beside for me without question, suffered without question” Thranduil lamented as he paced about the room, his face a mask of thoughtfulness.

 

“You are my king, I would follow you anywhere, as would any of the soldiers in the Greenwood. You have suffered more than any of us my lord and yet you still lead us” replied Feren, his voice carrying pride as he spoke.

 

“Yet I have never expressed my gratitude for your service, or for your companionship over these ages. I hope to make amends of that, starting from this moment” Thranduil continued, he felt pride at Feren’s words to him, he never doubted his people’s loyalty, it was however uplifting to hear not all thought him cold and unfeeling, that they had seen what he had lost for them. “Name it and it is yours, a token of my appreciation” the king offered.

 

“You owe me nothing my lord, but I have a suggestion if you would be willing to hear it?” Feren replied. Thranduil merely nodded his approval, keen to hear what the commander’s proposal would be. Feren placed his glass of wine down and leaned on his knee slightly. “You say you have felt isolated and neglectful, I myself admit to the same struggles. The younger elves of this fair kingdom know little of the sorrows we faced first hand, I find myself at a loss having few who truly know what has occurred so long ago” the commander finished. Thranduil studied the elf for a moment, many of his people who fought in the second age sailed, unable to bare the memory of Mordor, remembering when he first met the commander on that dreadful day on Dagorlad.

 

_He sat on his knees before his father’s chair in the royal pavilion of Greenwood, his eyes still bloodshot from the tears shed for his fallen father. Today had been a bitter and tragic day for the elves of the Golden Wood and the Woodland Realm, thousands had been slain due to the early charge of Amdir of Lothlorien and the dead had still not yet been fully counted. Thranduil thought of all the wives, mothers, fathers and children who would be waiting for them back home, hoping to embrace their loved ones as they returned. How many would stand waiting, only to breakdown in grief when the realisation hit that the one they waited for was not coming home. The only solace is that they would meet again in the undying lands one day._

_The pain was unbearable, he knew that if he sailed he would once again see his father, so why did it hurt so much? He could barely breath, the moments of Oropher’s final moments burning into Thranduil’s mind, tormenting him. He cradled his fathers’ sword in his palms, the one that had run the Nazgul through, though it did not ease his pain, nor did it satisfy his desire for vengeance on the filth of Mordor. There was a soft knock on the canvas of the tent, he barely took notice, only turning his head to side when the flap opened, revealing Lord Elrond and another elf he recognised as Feren, one of the captains of his father’s royal guard._

_“Thranduil, may we come in?” Elrond asked softly, his gentle voice resonating throughout the tent. Thranduil wanted nothing more than to be left to his grief, yet the promise he made to his father before he died echoed through his mind. He nodded, not turning to look at the pair, instead he stood and sheathed his father’s sword with his own, the twin blades hanging from either side of his waist. He heard the two elves enter the tent and stopped just behind him, only then did the elven-king turn to see his guests._

_“Lord Elrond, why do you come? Perhaps to deliver a message from the high-king? To chastise our foolish charge?” Thranduil asked bitterly, Gil-Galad may have been respectful to him as he cradled his father’s body, but the looks from the Noldorian warriors gave away their true view on their ‘lesser’ kin. The dark-haired elf merely looked at Thranduil with a soft expression with his sympathy clear in his features, something that irked him further, Elrond was perhaps one of the wisest of the Eldar, calm and collected always._

_“I bring no such message; your father made a brave choice. Without his action, all the host from Lothlorien would have been slain” Elrond started, but was cut off by the new elven-king when he stepped forward, his face a mix of agony and rage._

_“My father may still be with us, had you not let us fight alone!” he seethed. The dark-haired lord, merely stood calm, allowing Thranduil to vent his anger. “You think I did not see him wait? Only when the orcs had surrounded us and exposed their flank and rear did the Noldor engage, how much elven blood was spilt due to that delay?” he finished before turning away from the elf lord to face his fathers chair once more._

_“The loss of any elven life brings me great pain Thranduil, do not judge all the Noldor for the actions of a few. Your people need you, give them courage, a purpose to fight again so that the lives lost today were not in vain. My dear friend, the fate of Middle Earth hangs on the outcome of this battle, only if we fight together will we prevail” Elrond spoke, his voice gentle as ever, he needed not to raise his voice, whenever the elf lord spoke people listened, Thranduil was no different. “I shall leave you both, the army marches forth to the Black Gate in two hours” concluded the elf lord as he gently placed his hand upon the king’s shoulder, before leaving the tent, leaving Thranduil and the captain of his guard behind._

_“My prince …. My king, what are your orders?” Feren asked, catching himself at issuing the wrong title. For a moment Thranduil said nothing, his empty gaze fixed on the chair before him, after another few moments of silence the elven-king looked over his shoulder to the elf at his back._

_“To finish what my father started”._

“You lost your father too that day did you not?” Thranduil asked as his thoughts withdrew from the memory. He remembered the sadness that was etched on Feren’s face that day, something he could relate to all too well, perhaps that is why he felt somewhat closer to Feren than he did others within his kingdom. _Perhaps that is why you favoured Tauriel so much._

 

“Yes, my lord, I stood beside him as he fought valiantly defending your father, king Oropher, stepping between him and an orc blade” Feren responded, his voice laced with sadness at the memory.

 

“My father always thought highly of him, as did I, almost fitting that they would die together. The only solace is that one day you will see him again in Valinor” said the king, who walked back to his chair. He watched as Feren smiled at the mention of his father being so highly praised by his king.

 

“As will you my king, we admire your strength, many lesser elves would’ve sailed long before now. After all you have endured” mused the commander. Thranduil flinched at the words, if Feren noticed his action, he did not show it. Grief began to form in his heart, the tragic truth that he had learnt of since Dagorlad that he would never again see his father or beloved wife again due to the manner of their passing, even if he did sail. “My lord?” he heard the commander speak. He shook his head and looked up at the elf, who wore an expression of concern across his face.

 

“I agree to your offer, though do keep it to yourself. I don’t want every elf and his elk knocking at all hours for idle chatter commander. I do value some of my solitude after all” Thranduil said with a smirk gracing his lips, earning a small chuckle from the elf before him.

 

“Worry not my king, for I to do not like the idea of be approached asking for favours to deliver unto you” he replied with a cheery tone. They spoke long into the afternoon, sharing their accounts of the years that had gone by, the healing of the forest within their expanding borders and more. It was the first time in many years that Thranduil felt something akin to friendship, it caused him peace when Feren too seemed to come more alive, now too having someone who experienced much the same as he had. The sun had begun to dip towards the tree line, causing Thranduil to remember Tauriel would be arriving soon.

 

“I will take my leave my king, I know you are expecting Captain Tauriel to discuss the new patrols this evening” Feren said as he rose from his chair, setting his empty glass aside. The king rose with him and walked to the entrance to his chambers with him.

 

“I thank you for your company Feren, I only wish I had not neglected my people for so long” Thranduil spoke with a smile on his face.

 

“Your people do not see it as this, I thank you for your own and bid you good evening my king” replied the commander before he exited the room and set off his own dwelling. Thranduil then set about bathing and ridding himself of his garments that were soiled with sweat from his sparring earlier that day, his wound was still tender to the touch and not once or twice did he brush a little to firmly whilst cleaning. After feeling clean enough, he pulled himself from the warm water and draped himself on a intricately craved wooden lounger within his wash room which was placed in front of a warm hearth, drying him more swiftly. As he waited to dry he took a moment to inspect his form, he was well aware he was handsome even by elven standards and was gifted with a warrior’s body, his body was firm and defined, honed by thousands of years of training and war.

 

 As with most warriors, his body bared faint reminders of how even the immortal Eldar were not immune from the sting of a blade. He only had faint scars and he allowed them to be visible to him, a reminder that carelessness could get you killed, the only scars he kept at bay were the ones that laced the left side of his face and torso. He would not bare those scars openly, for his sake and his sons, he remembered how Legolas had been nearly inconsolable when his father had suffered such wounds to protect him. Thranduil snapped his mind away from the memory and exited his washroom, he settled on a black robe which glittered in the torchlight with a thousand small diamonds, it had a modest collar which came half way up his neck, the garment hugged his form perfectly down to his waist were it split at the front and curved back to finish just above his knee, his breeches and boots matched the onyx colour. He pulled on his favoured crimson sleeved cloak, his clothing gave him a regal and powerful appearance.

 

His thoughts then turned to the elleth that was soon to be visiting him, the memories of that night came flooding back. _No more thoughts of death, promise me, for me_. The desperation in her voice broke him. He remembered her soothing touch and her gentle whispers _I’m here my king, you are safe_ easing his suffering from his nightmare. He lips against his, she had kissed him back, he had felt her need for him in those moments, and his need for her was unlike anything he felt before, save for his late wife. Guilt hit him like a hammer at the memory of his beloved queen, but the faintest echo of a memory trickled through, _do not suffer in shadow my love, promise me._ He grasped the back of the chair of his dressing table, forcing the memory back, he was not ready to relive that moment again. The pain slipped away, easing from him. He would never see her again, and his heart had finally in many a long eon, begun to beat again, reaching for some kindle of love to start his ever-dwindling flame.  

 

“Ever my heart aches for you” he whispered to the silence of his chambers. Slowly he rose to his full height again, finally feeling his control return. It was then that a feint knocking came at his door.

 

……

 

Apologises if this was more of a filling chapter, I didn’t want to jump from big memory scenes every chapter. This is mainly a Thranduil/Tauriel fic however I want to build the elven-kings character as much as I can. Thought I would draw from the fact that although he is a king, he has seen much and would need someone to confide in, other than his son or Tauriel I mean.

 

Let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter IX – Hearts Unspoken Words

**Trials of Kingship**

Chapter IX – Hearts Unspoken Words

 

“My king, Captain Tauriel is here to see you, at your request” announced the guard at his door. Thranduil walked over to his desk were his wine was located, pouring himself a glass as well as a second. After a sip of the sweet liquid he turned to the guard and held himself for a moment.

 

“Very well, send her in” he spoke, his tone even and full of authority. The guard bowed and opened the large oak doors, revealing Tauriel just behind them. Thranduil noted her beauty almost instantly, gone were her guard garments and in their place was a flowing emerald gown laced with silver, her hair was draped down her back, reaching down the bottom of her back, her typical braids were in place. She held an expressionless face as she entered the room, he would expect nothing less from her, his back was to her as she entered but their eyes met as he studied her from over his shoulder. He often wondered if other ellon looked at her as he did in this moment, the thought stirred envy within him rapidly, he forcibly pushed this emotion away. _Envy is a dangerous emotion_. Only when the door to his chambers close did the elleth speak.

 

“You wished to speak with me my king?” she spoke finally, her soft voice flowed through his ears like a melody. He did not fail to notice her eyes briefly roam over his appearance, a strange glint in her eye appearing.

 

“That I did, how faired your practice this morning?” Thranduil replied, taking up the two glasses of wine before moving over to her, offering her the second glass which she took gratefully, their fingers briefly touching, causing a slight shudder to move through him. They stood there in silence for a moment, their bodies mere inches from one another, her eyes looked up to his at that moment. _She is beautiful_ he though to himself, briefly wondering if she felt the same when looking at him, but only had to remember her soft touches and gazes when she had asked to see his wounds.

 

“It was well my lord” she started with a whisper, her eyes were flittering between his own and briefly to his lips, it was with great restraint he did not drop his wine and claim her lips for his own there and then. “Though everyone was gossiping about your skills with a sword, I could barely get my guards to focus. How is your wound? You were quite … vigorous” she continued, emphasising the last word, her eyes drifting again. _This tension is torment_ his mind screamed, her body language, her appearance, her melody like voice all cried out for him to move. _Not yet, this is to be savoured_.

 

“It is still tender, however I felt like myself today” he replied, tearing himself from her personal space, the desire for her growing each moment as they danced about each other with their opening words to one another, like two forces forming up before a battle, waiting for the other to make the first move.

 

“It was the first time I have seen you fight, even after all my years in the guard. The stories told of your skills do not lie, you should spar with the soldiers more often” she offered.

 

“About the other night” Thranduil spoke, he noticed her eyes widen at the sudden change of topic and even more so at that subject. His heart hammered in his chest at the words that flew from his mouth, over the years he had fought many a foul creature, yet he did not feel this kind of fear then as he did now. “We have had some time to digest what happened between us, I would be interested in knowing your thoughts on the matter” he continued, pacing about the room as he did, something he often did when dealing with difficult matters. Tauriel looked at him, her eyes never wavering from his own, a myriad of emotions swimming behind them.

 

“My king I .. Perhaps I should tell you of what happened during that night whilst you slept. That might better describe my thoughts on this … Matter” she started. Thranduil inclined his head slightly, indicating for her to continue. With a slight inhale of breath, she began. “I should start with that night”

 

_Tauriel awoke slowly to the sound of soft breaths, taking a moment for her eyes to adjust she took in her surroundings for a moment. The room was dark, the only light being the soft trickle of moonlight through the windows of the kings’ bedchamber. It was then she remembered she was in Thranduil’s chambers, in his bed, curled up beside him, her head resting on his strong and firm shoulder whilst her arm was draped over his chest, her hand resting on his breast, slightly under his open tunic. She felt heat rise to her cheeks when she saw this, remembering the king asking her to stay with him that night, and pulling her close to him before he fell into sleep._

_She looked at his peaceful sleeping face, noticing how truly handsome her king really was, even for an elf. She brought her hand up to his face and held it for a moment, she regrets raising her bow to him, accusing him for having no love within him when all he sought to achieve was the safety of his people, his greatest love. She could not remember how long she had held feelings for her king, however they only grew in strength with each passing day and upon hearing of his wish to fade it had broken her heart. She only hoped he would keep his promise._

_She gently sat up from him, careful not to disturb his peaceful sleep. She was restless, her head constantly replaying the memories of his lips against her skin and mouth, his sweet whispers, she shuddered with bliss at the memory of what occurred a few hours before. She let her eyes search the room, taking in the beautiful furniture and décor, it was however the twin swords that hung just above his dresser that caught her eye. She gently rose from the bed and moved closer to inspect the king’s swords, they were identical to one another and held a simplistic beauty to them, each was crafted from a single piece of elven steel, folded with Mithril so that its edge would never dull. Unlike the swords of the elven military swordsmen the blades were slender and straight until the tip of the blade curved slightly upwards, she wondered how many foul creatures had met their end to these beautiful blades, remembering also that she was at the end of one._

_She turned her head as she heard Thranduil moving and murmuring in his sleep, his words incoherent but his movements were twitchy and agitated. She rushed back to his side in an instant and returned to her position beside him, pulling him into her embrace, hoping to soothe him from whatever night terror was plaguing him at that moment. She gently stroked his face with affection, if anyone were to find them in the position they were in, they would think them lovers, she cared not, for in this moment there was only she and him._

 

_She slowly lowered her lips to his own and gently pressed them together, gentle and adoring before resting her head again on his shoulder._

_“I wish I could tell you my hearts unspoken words, that I love you with all my heart, alas I fear losing you too much to take such a risk and outwardly tell you” she murmured to herself. His kisses however earlier in the night expressed he too felt something, but how much did he feel? Feeling tired once more, Tauriel brought her hand to rest on his chest again and brought her body closer to his own, only then did she allow sleep to claim her._

Thranduil paused at the last sentence she spoke of when she recounted what happened as she awoke, she loved him? His eyes shot to her own and bore into the emerald orbs from across the room, he could see her words were true in the way she looked at him, clear as starlight.

 

“Did you truly not know? For centuries now, I have felt for you, loved you. I thought you did not care, you were always so cold” she said softly, his voice wavering. He said nothing but placed his wine down and moved with an unmatched grace to her, taking her own glass from her hand and setting it down. He could see the confusion in her tear-filled eyes, he offered her no words, merely brought a hand to her waist and the other to the back of her head and seized her lips in a searing kiss that burned hotter than even dragon-fire. It took Tauriel a few moments to react before her hands grasped his neck and she returned his kiss with her own vigour, her unshed tears escaped her eyes as she sought to deepen the kiss whilst pressing herself closer to him.

 

“I did not see then, but now I see you” he breathed as their lips danced across one another’s, his hand at her hip pulled her closer to him, causing a jolt of pleasure and desire pool at his lower regions as her hips gazed against his hardened length through his clothing. An action which caused him to pull away for a moment, the sight of her swollen lips and darkened eyes only increasing his desire for her. He brought her to mere inches from his lips, his eyes locking with her own. “Gen Melin Tauriel” he whispered finally. Her hands held his wrists as he cupped her face either side, tears now falling freely.

 

“I thought I’d lost you when you spoke to Aylisa of fading, I thought I’d never get the chance to tell you, I thought I waited to long” she cried as she pressed her forehead to his. He closed his eyes for a moment as he allowed the confession to wash over him, soothing his weary and troubled heart, every memory of her with him racing through his mind as he looked back on all that had happened. His heart had finally opened itself to love again on Ravenhill, seeing her pain at Kili’s death for what he thought of as love stung him greatly, it was only then he knew he loved her. He opened his own eyes and gently brushed away the tears that leaked from her own.

 

“I admit I was lost, waiting for fate to claim me. I cared not whether I fell to the sword or my own grief, when I thought you’d left my halls for a dwarf, I thought it was anger at your abandonment of our people. I see now that it was jealousy, though I did not see it then, I see you now like I said before” he spoke in a low tone. Tauriel’s eyes watered still at his words and her lips slightly parted as she looked up at him in wonderment and adore, her hand resting upon his face.

 

“I am sorry for all of it, I will never forgive myself for Kili. You were right when you said I brought shame upon myself, I was blinded by my love for you” she whispered, she brought her head to his neck and he felt her warm tears against his throat, before her soft lips worked against his skin, making his whole-body quake with desire for her. Unable to take the sensation of her lips on his neck, he bent to her ear, suppressing a groan as his arousal became unbearable his nether regions were caught between them. Unwilling to be at her mercy, he nibbled on her ear causing her to gasp against his neck, he swiftly moved his mouth to her own throat and placed searing kisses there as well as nipping and gently suckling at her skin, causing heavenly sounds to come from her mouth. Her hands were roaming across his clothed body, seemingly frustrated by the material covering his skin, it was then as her hand slid under his tunic and he drew his breath as her hand eagerly traced the defined muscles. At that moment he pulled away, his breath heavy.

 

“My lord?” she asked in confusion.

 

“Have you been, intimate in the past?” he asked carefully. Though elves unlike men did not lay with one another unless they were bound together by love, he wanted to know, needed to know. _Could she had lay with the dwarf? She thought she loved him at the time?_ The idea of her being passionate with another sent burning envy through him, but hadn’t he with his wife before she passed? How could he begrudge Tauriel if she had also?

 

“No my king, I have never touched another. I care not that you have, she was your wife” she whispered to him, her eyes dark with lust and want. It was then her eyes widened at the mention of his late wife and she tried to back away.

 

“Wait” he said, for a moment she stopped and looked at him, the lust replaced with sadness and pain. “She is lost to me Tauriel, I cannot bare to tell you why yet, the grief is still too strong. She is bound to Mandos for eternity, even if I sailed or faded, I would never see her again” he said, holding his voice firm as the painful memories floated to the surface. It was then he saw the light in her eyes return.

 

“Will you tell me one day? I seek to bring you only happiness and joy, I wish to learn everything. Your tale of Dagorlad and Mordor, your wife, Legolas, everything. I am sorry you will never be able to see her again, I truly am, I wish for you to be happy” she replied as she stroked his jaw.

 

“I am happy here with you Tauriel, I will share with you all the knowledge of my long years on this good earth. For now, let me share with you my heart” he spoke before taking her lips again in his own. They stood like that for moments that felt like an eternity, savouring each other’s taste and warmth, Thranduil using centuries of self-control so not to lose himself completely. In the moment of passion, the elven-king felt something press into his thoughts, something dark and foreboding, suddenly his thoughts of bliss vanished as fleeting images crossed his vision.

 

_They walked along one of the many corridors of the halls of the elven-king, two sets of footfalls echoing through the cavern as they headed to an unknown destination. Thranduil knew not who companion is was, the images were blurred to him, though a sound of a feminine laugh echoed from further down the corridor. The laugh belonged to Tauriel he thought, he quickened his pace to seek the elleth of his heart’s desire, rounding the corner, before stopping dead at the scene before him. Tauriel stood with her hands on the chest of an ellon as her lips moved against the stranger, before he could react the scene vanished to black._

_“Do you think yourself loved, oh great elf-king?” rumbled a dark voice. Thranduil searched for the source of the voice but to no avail, all was black about him. “You lost much of yourself in Mordor, you are broken, weak as untampered steel. Only in death will you find any relief”_

His eyes flew open, he was back in his chambers with Tauriel firmly in his arms. His hand was still fixed in her hair and the other on her lower back, he looked down into her eyes which shone with joy, her lips swollen and slightly parted, her cheeks flushed from their passion. She whispered something to him, and he vaguely heard himself reply, seeing the smile on her face meant he had answered correctly, but his mind lingered on the scene of her in another’s arms, and the dark voice he remembered from so long ago, something he had hoped he would never hear again.

_“You are broken”_ it echoed.  

 

……

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all to have reviewed, you do keep me going. This story is focusing on our favourite elven-king of course, but the relationship with Tauriel will help lead us into fresh memories and just how he became who he did.
> 
> Thank you all!


	10. Chapter X – Love of a King

**Trials of Kingship**

Chapter X – Love of a King

 

Thranduil stood alone in the centre of the Hall of Swords, his eyes closed firmly as he tried to focus his thoughts. The elven-king finally had found some will to carry on in Tauriel, his passion for her was pulling him from the depths of his despair that he had slipped into unawares, gone were the thoughts of fading. For now at least. He stood deathly still has be tried to forget the foreboding presence that had crept into his mind, he recalled the whispers it uttered to him the previous night.

_“Do you think yourself loved, oh great elf-king?” rumbled a dark voice. Thranduil searched for the source of the voice but to no avail, all was black about him. “You lost much of yourself in Mordor, you are broken, weak as untampered steel. Only in death will you find any relief”_

_“You are broken”_

His eyes flew open as the words echoed through his thoughts, drawing his blades he twirled in a dance of steel, honing his blade strokes that he had mastered for millennia. The sound of elvish steel scything through the air filled the hall, along with the gentle footfalls of the king as he sparred with his invisible foe. As he weaved more complex swings he neared one of the intricate pillars within the hall, with a ghost of a smirk he ran towards it, leaping up and pushing off the pillar he twisted midair and whipped his sword around taking the head of his imaginary foe, before landing with the grace only the eldar could perform. He paused for a moment, his eyes still firmly on the pillar before him, he never opted for such displays in battle. War was not beautiful or glorious, something he often scolded Legolas for. _Legolas, my beautiful little leaf. I wonder where you are now?_ He thought to himself, his sombre mood taking hold once more. He remembered bringing the prince here when he was but an elfing, like his father before him. Not all the memories were fond.

 

_“Ada I want to fight with a sword like you, the soldiers tell me you are the greatest they have ever seen” said a young Legolas excitedly as he skipped besides his father as they made their way to the sword hall. Thranduil chuckled to himself at his sons eagerness, though he prayed to the Valar he would never have to use what he taught him._

_“Your mother was quite clear with me, little leaf. You will learn how to master the bow, the elder are the masters of his weapon, the woodland kin more so” Thranduil replied softly. Thankfully the prince let go for his argument, for now at least._

_“Why do you not use a bow Ada?” asked Legolas as he eyed his fathers’ sword at his hip._

_“Your grandfather was very traditional my little leaf, he deemed that all those of royal blood be practiced with a sword” Thranduil replied, some traditions could be afforded to slip away he thought to himself._

_“Then why –“_

_“Because I said so Legolas” the elven-king cut the prince off, turning his piercing blue eyes to his sons own. He flinched inwardly at the little elfing rubbing his hands together and looking down at the ground. “You will one day learn to use a sword, but you will be better prepared to defend those around you with a bow. Battle is not like the stories my little leaf, I would rather you never have to see it, now should we go to the practice fields?” he said softly, laying a hand on his sons’ head, causing the little prince to look up at him._

_“Yes Ada” he said gently._

Thranduil smiled fondly at the memory, though there was a great sadness with it as well. Legolas was no longer beside him, neither was his beloved queen, _You have Tauriel beside you now, she will be able to heal your woes_ his thoughts spoke, they spoke truth, perhaps with Tauriel he could begin to re-build who he once was. _Your queen could not, not even she could bring the light back to your eyes after what you saw in Mordor. You are weak, a lesser elf lord than those who linger here, it matters not, not even the eldar can stop the flames of war_ came the dark voice again. Was he going mad? No fell creature of darkness could be here, they had been pushed south. _I see all, oh great elf-king._ Thranduil slashed out in frustration at the voice in his head, his sword connecting with a training post, splitting it in two.

 

_“The prince is a natural my lord, even by elven standards” spoke the palace guard that was over seeing Legolas’s archery training. Thranduil was competent enough with a bow, perhaps it was his father’s training or some odd desire for peril that Thranduil preferred to surge into the melee, his silver swords a blur where ever he moved. Thus, he handed the teaching of archery to one his finest guards, young by elven standards but experienced enough in all manner of shooting, whether it be for war or leisure. He watched with pride as his son loosed three arrows in quick succession, all thudding into the centre of the target. “Well done my prince!” praised the guard as the elfing turned with a infectious smile to face his father._

_“Ada did you see?!” Legolas said with excitement. Thranduil’s heart swelled with pride and joy at his little leaf, he noticed then his son looking behind him. “Naneth! Did you see too?” called the little prince as he ran passed Thranduil to the new source of his joy._

_“Oh I did my little leaf, you did so well” came a soft melodic voice._

“I have failed you, both of you” he whispered, his voice on the edge of breaking. The silence of the hall for once did not offer him comfort, his queen was lost to him, but Legolas was still out there. Countless days Thranduil sat on his throne and in his chambers, just with a small spark of hope that his son would walk through the door. “I became so cold when you were gone, if only our places had been different. I hope you do not hate me, for Legolas, for finding a way to feel love again in my heart? If I knew I would see you again, even if it were not for ten lifetimes, I would have waited my love” he continued to speak aloud. She would not begrudge his happiness, she was so selfless, so pure, where he was a raging river, she was but a gentle stream.

 

_“Move your feet Legolas, you must be quick as your footwork will kill you before your wild swings” Thranduil scolded his son as he danced aside from the princes practice sword, before bringing his own wooden blade crashing into the back of his sons knee, causing the prince to buckle. “You have much to learn” spoke the king in a flat voice as he stood waiting for Legolas to rise again._

_“I am not you ada, had you taught me sooner I perhaps would not be such a novice as I am now” snapped the prince, standing up slowly, wincing as he did so._

_“You are one of the finest archers I have ever seen my son, perhaps even greater than Beleg. I promised your mother that you would only learn the sword when you were ready” Thranduil replied, ignoring the tone his son replied with. Legolas was a grown Ellon now, his mother would have been proud of the elf he had become he thought, the sudden lump in his throat grew before he forced the grief away. He did not fail to notice the sorrow spread across his sons face at the mention of his mother._

_“Is that why you are so unforgiving? To make up for lost time” Legolas asked softly, his voice wavered. Thranduil walked over to his son and embraced him tightly, he felt the prince respond in kind, feeling him shake slowly as tears fell against Thranduil’s shoulder._

_“I am so firm with you, because I will not always be around to protect you my leaf” Thranduil spoke softly as he drew back from his son, drying the princes’ eyes with his thumbs. “As much as I would never have you leave my sight, I fear you will have your own path to find in this world, your own quest. Should this come to pass, I would not have it said that the prince of the Woodland Realm could not wield a sword”_

_“I will not fail you ada, ever have you kept us from harm, I would not see your work undone” Legolas replied as he stepped away and readied himself once more. Thranduil smiled before readying his own sword._

_“Begin”_

Yet he had failed to keep the ones he loved from harm, Legolas was without a mother, his people had lost loved ones at Erebor due to his blind arrogance. _A failure you will always be, doomed to fail, as will all Middle Earth_ echo the voice again. He pushed away the voice, focusing his mind onto fonder memories.

 

_“Ada look! Its Talagor!” shouted the elfing prince as he skipped into the stables ahead of his father. The majestic elk turned its head to face the young prince, who halted just in front of the great elk, the creature peered at the little elfling at his hooves. Thranduil watched in amusement at Legolas peering up at his mount in awe, the creature was incredibly gentle around the elves, though its large antlers have gored many an orc, warg and troll since serving with Thranduil as his noble steed._

_“Son be careful, Talagor is a noble creature and should be respected as such. Step back a bit so that he can look at you better” Thranduil spoke softly. The little prince stepped back and peered back up at the elk, and to his delight Talagor lowered his great head and nuzzled Legolas’s face, his breath causing the prince’s blonde hair to fluttered behind him, causing the elfing to squeal in delight and gentle stroked the elks muzzle._

_“His antlers are so big ada” Legolas exclaimed and reached out to touch them, wrapping his little hands around them. Thranduil went to pull his son away but paused when the elk gently lifted up his head, allowing the prince to dangle from its antlers. The king chuckled at the sight before taking Legolas by the waist and pulling him away from Talagor, holding his son in his arms as he wrapped his little arms around his neck. “He is so beautiful ada” the little prince mused._

_“He is very beautiful indeed, but he is not a toy. We must respect all the creatures in this great forest and one day it will be your own to rule and protect” Thranduil said with a smile._

_“But you are the king, and naneth is the queen. We live forever ada, so you will always be king” Legolas replied, causing Thranduil too chuckle once more._

_“How is my lovely elfing” came a soft voice from behind them, Thranduil’s heart froze for a moment at the sound of his wife’s voice. He heard Legolas speaking to her before he felt a warm hand on his shoulder and breath on his ear. “And my beloved husband, I’ve missed you today”_

“Enough!” he yelled into the empty hall, his voice echoing around the high ceiling. Why must his mind torment him so? He felt alone and broken by despair, remembering the one person who could chase away the darkness that lingered about his heart whenever he was alone. _Tauriel_ he though, the red haired elleth who had captured his tormented heart, thawed the ice that had gripped him, gave him a purpose for living. _Why would she love you? A broken king, a worthless elf, perhaps another has her heart, it is what you fear is it not?_ Came the mocking voice again. Thranduil slammed his swords back into their scabbards and strode from the hall, headed towards his heart’s desire. Night had fallen and the halls were glowing with amber light from the touches among the pillars and walls, he nodded to the guards patrolling the pathways of the cavern and before long he was stood before her quarters, but before he could knock the door opened to reveal the object of his affections about to step out, she jumped when she noticed him before her.

 

“My lord! Is everything well?” she asked in surprise, knowing they were alone he pushed her into their quarters, closing the door behind him. Without a word he took her face in his hands and seized her lips in his own, causing her to gasp in shock at his sudden presence and passion, he heard a heavy thud as she flung her arms about his neck, dropping whatever she held without thought, her kisses just as needy as his own. His hands travelled from her face, down her neck and shoulders, one hand stopping just above the seductive swell of her bottom, his other drifting back to her neck. The room was filled with the sounds of gasps for air between their colliding lips, never breaking for more than a moment as her hands roamed across his strong back and down his sides. The fire in his stomach and lower regions burned like white hot flame, causing him to grind his hips to hers, seeking any friction, causing her to gasp and release a shudder breath as she felt his harden length brush against her navel.

 

“I need you Tauriel, more than I ever knew” he breathed, his heart raced with joy as his Fea began entwining with her own as their passion grew. The darkness that lingered in his mind vanished from sight as her white light flooded him fully, filling him with her love for him, so pure, so addictive. “You chase away the darkness within me, I would not be parted from you, would you bond with me? Damaged as I am?” he continued as he held her close to him, her own hips moving against his, causing him pure bliss.

 

“You have me, you always have my love” her response was wavered with her heavy breathing and he could feel her shake against him. “That you ask me to bond with you fills my heart with untold joy, I cannot tell you how much I love you, there are not words enough to explain” she said as her eyes glistened with unshed tears, she then kissed him again, causing their mouths to dance once more. Their bodies moved against one another until Thranduil pressed her against the wall of her chambers, allowing the sweet torment of friction to increase tenfold. It was not only him that was affected as he felt her legs shake violently and her breathes were ragged, her hands more demanding across his body.

 

“Let me give you a gift for what you have bestowed upon me” he whispered huskily into her ear, causing her to grind into his groin again, her lust taking over as she nodded eagerly with her eyes firmly shut. Thranduil pulled her to the bed and lay her down on her back and slowly began unlacing her forest green tunic, his fingers grazing the skin as it became exposed causing her to shudder and reach for his own clothing. He stopped her wrist and held it above her head, causing her to throw him a confused look. “Not tonight, I will show you how much I need you, how much you have made me feel” he whispered as he brought his lips to her neck and slowly kissed down her exposed throat, between the valley of her breasts which were kept behind her open tunic. Each kiss caused a whimper and groan from Tauriel, with each being louder than the last as he went lower.

 

He rose up to her face once more and placed his hand on her sternum, before gently letting to glide down her chest, his fingers grazing the swell of her breasts, down her flat stomach. Her breath was heavy, and her mouth hung open in pleasure as he went lower, stopping at the waistband of her leggings.

 

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, inches from her lips.

 

“Always” she breathed and pulled him down, devouring his mouth in a lustful haze. With her acceptance he allowed his hand to slip under the waistband and stopped just at the top of her entrance, inches from her most sensitive area, he could feel the heat rolling from her and felt her hips hitch up, trying to get him to touch her. “Please” she begged as she pulled away from his lips, with a small smirk, he allowed his lithe fingers to slide either side of her core, causing her to let out a moan of desire as his touch was so close. She was slick and ready for him, he watched as her mouth parted with unbridled anticipation before he finally gave her what she craved. His fingers slid up her sides again before sliding down the centre of her wet heat, causing her eyes to snap open and back to arch from the bed.

 

“Are you ready?” he whispered. She didn’t respond, her hips pressed against his fingers as she let out another gasp of pleasure.

 

“Please” she whispered again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be a direct continuation of this ending so the M rating will fully apply. Let me know what you think, I know I went for two different emotions here, hope you enjoyed how it was done.


	11. Chapter XI – I See You

His fingers skilful and gentle, glided up and down the centre of her core as he placed drawn out kisses across her torso, his lips pulling at her soft skin, adding to her whimpering breaths and arousal. Thranduil maintained his self-control even as her slick centre drove him to the edge of his sanity, his own arousal straining within his breeches, but not tonight he told himself, tonight was for her and her alone. He was mindful of her inexperience and took his time with her, being sure she was ready both physically and mentally before taking it further. Her hand grasped at his tunic as her other buried itself into her own hair as she slowly came undone for the first time in her long life, soaking her king and lovers tormenting fingers in her climax released, her moan was so erotic to Thranduil he barely held on as he felt her release coat his hand.

 

“Please Thranduil … Please I need you, I want you” she begged breathlessly, her entire body trembling in the aftershock of her first orgasm. He smirked as he allowed her something more, he gently started pulling his sparring tunic over his head, chuckling when he felt her rise and frantically pulled at the material. Once the garment was ridded from his chest she brought her lips to his in a manner that could be described as savage, he did not allow her full control however as her hands flung to his breeches, he caught her wrists again and leaned to her ear.

 

“Not tonight, please let me pleasure you, take you to where you have never been before” he whispered seductively into her ear, all the while he gently pushed the open tunic from her shoulders, his thumbs slightly grazing her erect nipples causing the elleth to let out a shuddering moan as pleasurable tingles erupted from his touch. He took advantage of this and pushed her back down to the bed before his hands went lower and gently his fingers hooked onto the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down slowly to reveal her smooth and toned legs, as well as her core, her whole body writhed gently beneath him, craving to be touched. He took his time, knowing that the slow torment would yield a far greater climax as he kneeled between her legs, allowing his hands to slid down her long legs, gently over her waist, his fingers danced as they moved across her stomach, his thumbs brushing the bottom swell of her breasts, causing her to gasp and shudder as she grinded her thighs together at his ministrations. His fingers skirted around her nipples ever so closely, as he gently lowered his lips to her breast and gently suckled the firm flesh there.

 

“I can’t …. I can’t take much more” she cried, almost sobbing with ecstasy. Now, with her at his mercy he moved one hand between her legs and then took one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the hardened nub. As his hand returned to her warm heat she cried out loudly as her throbbing pleasure points were finally appeased, her hands buried into his silk like hair, murmuring incoherent words of pleasure as his tongue swirled around her hard spot upon her breast. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt his deft fingers, coated from her release slide inside her, the penetration to her most intimate area caused her second release, far harder than the first as she bucked and writhed against him.

 

“Once more my love, stay with me” he whispered against her breast. She restrained nothing, the roomed filled with the sound of her erotic moans of pleasure that Thranduil was making her release, she didn’t care, she had him, that’s all she needed. Thranduil began to curl his fingers within her, only causing Tauriel’s volume to increase, causing her to pull him from her chest and hold his face to hers, her eyes dark with lust gazing into his own. Just at the point of her release he withdrew his fingers from her and swiftly moved his head lower, until he reached between her thighs and took one last look at her face which was plastered with wonder. He dipped his head and allowed his tongue to glide across her slick arousal, circling, gliding and brushing the right spots, until finally hitting _that_ spot which brought forth her third and final climax, she clamped her hand over her mouth as she held the scream back, her toes curling as her core clenched over and over.

 

Thranduil pulled himself up, wiping his lips from her release and came to lay level with her as she lay panting heavily from the aftermath. She pulled herself closer to him, resting her still shaking body against his own, seeking his warm embrace as his hand gentle moved up and down her back. She was not content to simply lay there however, her lips brushed against his chest and neck, swift and brief as he hands wandered across the muscles of his exposed torso with hunger. Thranduil resisted the urge to tear his breaches away and make love to her in that moment, as her breasts pressed against his chest firmly and her leg swung over his waist, briefly brushing his hardened length causing him to buck slightly, earning a lustful smile from her. She lowered her lips to his and moved to lay over him, allowing her hips to straddle his own as she slowly ground her thighs against his arousal.

 

“I need you melin nin” she breathed against his lips before a strangled breath came out as the friction became too much, her energies spent as she collapsed on top of him, her head buried in his shoulder. He kissed her hair and reached over for the blanket of her bed and brought it over them, providing the elleth some modesty. She smiled and rolled to the side so that she could look up at him from where she lay on his breast. “I feel so selfish, to have taken so much pleasure and bliss and for you to have received none in return” she whispered.

 

“Seeing to your needs provides me all the pleasure I need, you are not experienced in the ways of physical love. I wish for you to be ready before we become one” he replied as he twirled her fiery tresses between his fingers, enjoying the feeling of her against his skin. Her eyes softened at his words as she lay a gently kiss on his chest, her hands exploring once more.

 

“You have scars that are not healed?” she asked quietly as she traced the feint white lines across his torso. It not often elves carried scars, their healing allowed for all signs of damage to wither in time, Thranduil chose for some to remain, reminding him that he was not above death by a blade. “What is this from?” she whispered as she touched a narrow scar that wrapped about his defined breast and just under his armpit.

 

“I received that during the final battle at Barad Dur, an orc attempted to spear Feren from behind, I put myself in the way, killing the creature, however its spear tip pierced through the shoulder joint of my armour. It was shallow, nothing that caused concern” he replied.

 

“What was it like, in Mordor? I have heard only whispers among the halls from those that saw it” she asked, her face softened when she saw him flinch at the name” Worry not my love, I was foolish and ill mannered to ask such questions from you to begin with” she carried on, her voice soft. He put his palm to her face, an attempt to ease her concern.

 

“I will never go back there again” he started.

 

_Thranduil stood at the head of his host as he stared up the looming tower of Barad Dur in the distance, its fell influence casting dread on all who looked upon it. He kicked the headless corpse of the slain orc at his feet in frustration, they had fought for years to get to this accursed plain and yet the war was far from over, its greatest battle yet to be fought as the dark lord had yet to take to the field._

 

_“Are you with me Feren?” Thranduil asked the elf to his right, both had cut down countless creatures of darkness together, fighting where the battle was thickest, willing to give their life if it meant but saving one of their people._

_“To the end my king” replied the commander._

_The air was so foul and the winds so strong that even Thranduil had warn a helm to help buffer the elements, though he loathed such armour, feeling it dulled his senses in the battle. The helm of the elven warriors was beautiful all the same with it protecting the full head of the warrior whilst allowing plenty of vision, the crescent moon shape blade that sat atop the helmet had proved an effective weapon also, though the aloof Noldor looked down on any elf that would sully his armour with orcish blood._

_“This land is foul” he said to himself as he observed the landscape surrounding the dark tower. The land was jagged and rough, littered with black rock and ash from Mount Doom in the far distance, the sky itself a hue of rust and crimson. How anything survived in this realm he knew not, it was a fell place, better left to wither away. Even the air was hostile, many of the men of the hosts of Arnor and Numenor had succumbed to the affects of the poison like enviroment._

_They had beaten back the main host of Mordor’s armies, yet the remaining servants of evil gathered at the foot of the dark tower, no side would give quarter. It was victory or death._

_“I see you Thranduil, King of Mirkwood!”_ the dark presence surged through his mind, causing the elven-king to rise from the bed in an instant as he inspected the room in alarm. Nothing. His earing returned to focus, he was breathing heavily, he felt warm comforting hands around his chest, warm lips moving against his shoulder, her soft breasts pressed against his firm back.

 

“Its ok Thranduil, I am here, only me, nothing else” she soothed her arms wrapping up and around his chest. His breaths steadied, and he turned around to face her, taking her face into his hands and bringing her into a slow kiss, causing the swirling darkness to recede. Her lips moved with his own as she traced his back gently, her hands traveling lower as she did. His hands drifted to her naked hips, taking her firmly with his larger hands, causing a gasp from the elleth as his fingers grazed her bottom. Before their passion escalated again however, a soft rapt at the door brought them both from their haze.

 

“Tauriel?” came a familiar voice of Flevedir, one of her patrol guards. Thranduil tensed for a moment, the hour was late, why would the guard be visiting his captain so late he thought? Trying to push aside the jealousy that formed in his heart. “Are you in there? We were due to meet an hour ago, I grew concerned when you did not arrive” Flevedir spoke from behind the door. Thranduil then felt Tauriel tense in his grip as those words came forth, as if knowing exactly how it sounded. How often did a captain and a guardsman have a late hour meeting? The king parted himself from her, allowing her to throw on a smoky grey robe from her wardrobe, her hair was tousled from their activities, yet she had no time to correct it, lest the guardsmen kick the door down. Thranduil moved out of sight from the door as Tauriel opened it, it would only cause rumours to fly if he was caught with her in this manner.

 

“Flevedir, apologises. I lost track of time whilst reading” she lied, remembering the object she dropped when Thranduil burst into the room. The chuckle from Flevedir was light as he leaned on the door frame, Thranduil watched as Tauriel drew her robe around her further from where he was hidden.

 

“It is quite alright Tauriel, would you still like to walk? The stars are beautiful this evening, almost as beautiful as you” he said with a smooth charm. Thranduil held firm as envy flowed through him, staying his hand, the guardsmen had no idea of what occurred here tonight, if anything he understood the ellon’s attraction to Tauriel, the blush on Tauriel’s face however, that caused him to clench his jaw. _Why would she choose you, a broken elf? Ancient and aloof, much like the Noldor you despise so much. I’m sure your little she-elf would much rather be writhing under that ellon and calling his name into the dark!_ Seethed the dark presence again, growing stronger as the negative emotions flooded the elven king. He heard Tauriel mumble something in reply, but the words he did not hear.

 

“Since when have you objected to staying out late? I thought you enjoyed frustrating the king with your tardiness, perhaps he will lend you another book that you would rather not read” Flevedir laughed in good humour, before he noticed Tauriel flinch. “Apologises, I over-stepped about the king. He is wise and brave, it was shameful for me to mock his gift to you” his voice seemed sincere enough to Thranduil, though the humour his displayed in his voice about the gift to Tauriel caused a pang of hurt, had she mocked his kindness to her guards?

 

“Tomorrow perhaps, it is already late and we’re due for the morning patrol. I expect to see you there early” Tauriel finished, before moving to shut the door after he guard spoke goodnight, clearly stunned by the formality from the captain. He watched as she turned around to face him, her face was a mask of concern. He walked to the bed and collected his tunic and pulled it swiftly over his head, before walking to the centre of the room, his gaze lingered on the book at his feet. “What he said ..” Tauriel started but was cut off.

 

“I care not, you are entitled to see whoever you wish and whatever time you wish” he spoke, his tone levelled. The hurt inside him had turned to anger, he was doing his best to control it within him. _Weak_ it whispered to him, his anger only rising when his eyes fell to the book once more, the image of Tauriel laughing with her guards at the everything he had told her forming in his mind. “I must leave” he uttered, fearing his reaction should he learn anything further, the mood within the room had truly soured, his fea swiftly retreating within him.

 

“Thranduil” she started but was again cut off.

 

“Deliver your report to Feren in the morning” he spoke before headed to the door, his hand resting on the handle.

 

“How do you do it? Go from gentle and loving to cold and cruel?” she called after him, her voice wavering. As he looked back at her he could see her eyes shining with unshed tears, it was almost believable. The anger he had been holding down burst from its holding, causing his instincts to kick in.

 

“Because I have too! I wonder Tauriel, how do you do it? Claim to love me, comfort me and even give part of yourself to me. What is it? A game? Something for you and your guards to laugh and snigger at, have I not suffered enough for you all?” he snapped, leaning forward, much how he had done so when Thorin Oakenshield had cursed him to dragon-fire, causing her eyes to widen in shock and betray a hint of fear at his tone. “Is it revenge?” he seethed.

 

“My- My lord?” she wavered, tears began spilling from her eyes.

 

“Perhaps you did love that dwarf, and now you seek to mock or break me in revenge for his death” he spoke, his old mask taking over, a cold and uncaring king as some of his subjects would believe. He waited for no answer, turning on his heel and leaving her chambers, he knew he had over-reacted, looked too far into the situation, but he needed solitude at this moment. The rage within him grew as his thoughts replayed the scene of discovering Tauriel in the arms of another ellon, the dark presence within his mind chasing away the bliss and comfort he had achieved in her company, chasing him further away from her.

 

Tauriel stood in shock, staring at the door that was left ajar from when he left. She closed it quietly before standing with her back to the oak wood, sliding down as the tears took over and she sobbed. She had felt his fea withdraw from her, feeling its blinding love for hear even as it retreated, feeling also the sting of betrayal, or perceived betrayal on her part. She did not blame him, it was common knowledge amongst the guard that Flevedir hoped to bond with her, she foolishly felt flattered when she should’ve shut him down straight away. Now she was paying the price for her foolishness. She eyed the book she had dropped to the floor when the king had first burst into the room, his passion wrapping her up and taking her to untold heights of carnal pleasure, her core was still searing from the aftermath of his touch.

 

She rose up and walked over to the discarding book, gently picking it up and laying on her bed, his scent still lingered, bringing more tears to her eyes. She would go to him tomorrow, once he had had the chance to steady his heart and mind, opening the book she started to read where she had last finished, the king in the story was leaving for war and had told his lover she was to stay behind. It was not long before she drifted to a restless slumber, the memory of his voice and touch filling her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really enjoyed writing this chapter! I hope you enjoy it also!


	12. Chapter XII – Sundered Fae

** Trails of Kingship **

****

Chapter XII – Sundered Fae

 

“The orcs appear to have gone quiet on the southern garrison, it appears Khamul is yet to re-form, I’d have no doubt the orcs will return on force on his return my lord” Feren spoke as he read out a report from the watch in the south. Thranduil sat quietly as he took in the report, not long ago he would never have pushed so far south and risked open war, but now was different, inaction was no longer an option.

 

“How many cavalrymen do we have?” the king asked the commander, causing the latter to look up at him with an odd expression on his fine features.

 

“My lord? Apart from your personal company, none of the army is trained for mounted combat. Not since Erebor have we fought in pitched battle and the last time we used cavalry in war was the aftermath of the disaster at Gladden Field” Feren replied, causing the elven king to fall silent once more. Rising from his seat he moved over to where is arms and armour were displayed, he was not so eager to run back into the fight, nor draw his soldiers into battle needlessly, however if they could thin the orc population south of the garrison, it would reap reward in the future.

 

“Very well, have the company prepare themselves should we need to ride south” Thranduil ordered. He would not repeat his mistakes, and as king, it was his duty to lead the assaults before the safety of the fortifications.

 

“I would be willing to lead them my lord, you need not endanger yourself” Feren replied, though appearing to hold back a flinch as Thranduil snapped his head to him. “I only meant to offer my support my king, not to question your order” Feren added. The elven king nodded, accepting his answer, he did not seek another of his advisors questioning his orders, Tauriel provided plenty of hours in that remit. He froze at the thought of the red-haired elleth, guilt and envy pulling at him as he remembers the events of three nights ago, he had been unreasonable, and yet still not sought her out, even going so far as to having Feren deal with the guard reports, much to the surprise of his commander.

 

“Not even my beloved wife could stop me hunting orc my dear commander, what chance do you believe you have?” he sat rather flatly at first, his ice blue eyes flicking to Feren to gauge his reaction, before a small smirk rose to his lips. To the commander’s credit, Thranduil never spoke openly of the late queen, and certainly not to his subordinates, so the look of conflict on how to respond was understandable from the elf. “She often did not approve of me leading any hunts, especially after Mordor” the king continued, had he and Feren not agreed they would confide in one another, so that the burdens of the long years were not so heavy? It was bittersweet to speak of his beloved wife in past tense, a reminder she was gone, never for him to see again, but the fond memory of that day caused bliss to surge through him.

 

_“You’ve just returned from war! Now you go out to seek more danger?” Alarielle exclaimed loudly, her voice etched in worry as she watched her husband put on his armour._

_“It is a roving band of orcs Alarielle, do not discredit my abilities to handle such filth nor the capabilities of my guard” Thranduil replied, struggling with the laces of his bracers. He felt her warm hands brush his own out of the way as she began to weave the lace, he looked up into her steel coloured eyes, seeing that she was truly concerned for his wellbeing. “You are truly beautiful my queen” he said softly as he ran his hand through her platinum blonde hair before resting it on her cheek, he felt his arm jerk as she tightened the last lace firmer than the rest._

_“Don’t try and change the subject Thranduil, that roving band of orcs slaughtered Isildur and his guards. Were they not capable?” she scolded, causing his lips to twitched upwards slightly in amusement at her tone, she noted it as well. “If you allow that smirk to grow any larger I will ensure it is wiped off face, king or no” she said to him. She went to turn away to retrieve his swords, but his hands flew to her slender waist and pulled her against him and pressed his lips to hers, she wasted little time in returning his kiss with her own passion, like a fire threatening to consume him, he pulled away before he was turned to cinder. “You will come home, lest I follow you to Mandos myself and deal with you” she breathed before turning in his arms to retrieve his weapons once more, his arms still locked around her waist._

_“I would not subject the Valar to your rage at my passing” he chuckled before placing soft and delicate kisses from her ear and down the side of her neck, causing her to drop his swords. He brushed the soft fabric of her dress aside from her shoulders as he lowered his kisses, enjoying the sounds of her breath becoming more laboured._

_“Thranduil” she breathed as she reached behind her to place one of her slender hands within his hair. “If you continue my king, you will not be going on that hunt” she murmured, gently swaying against him, an action which peek his own desires._

_“I will be coming back my love, this I swear” he replied, his tone soft and gentle._

_“You had better my beloved, I would not linger he if you did not. I could not. Now go, the swifter you are slaying those foul beasts, the sooner you will be in my arms again” she replied, before leaning to his ear and whispering seductively she said “No armour will protect you from me then”_

“My king?” came Feren’s voice, breaking Thranduil from the pleasant memory and causing him to turn and face the commander again. “You seemed distracted” he finished.

 

“Just reminiscing, see to it that the order is issued to the company” Thranduil replied, setting down the goblet of wine he had been holding since Feren had arrived, his thoughts drifting off to the red headed elleth once more. It was a little way past noon now, his captain of the guard had delivered her morning report to Feren earlier just before lunch, there was little to report thankfully, since they had purged the forest as far south as mountains.

 

“Very well, I shall take my leave of you now” Feren spoke and turned towards the door, pausing a moment before turning his head back towards Thranduil. “Captain Tauriel asked after you this morning, asking if you were well since she had not delivered a report to you personally of late” Thranduil turned to look at the commander, his facial expression held amusement.

 

“Naturally you told her I have far more pressing issues than hearing a report that you yourself are just as capable of hearing?” he asked with a bemused expression, earning a slight chuckle from the ellon before him.

 

“Yes sire, something like that” Feren replied.

 

“I assume you are going to the barracks to deliver my orders, I have been meaning to get out of these chambers for a moment. I shall walk with you” Thranduil stated, needing no permission to accompany the commander, who in kind nodded his head and held open the door for the king.

 

…

 

Tauriel walked briskly from the dining halls, having had her fill for lunch, now she just wanted some time to herself and away from the constant questions from her patrol guards. Her mind had been constantly on the king since he walked out the other night, his soothing voice and gentle caresses flicking through her mind, causing her heart to flutter and constrict at the same time, a deep sense of longing and hurt lingering over her since that night. She could not blame him fully, the situation with Flevedir did look like something more than it was. _Why did he have to make that comment about the book_ she thought to herself, she knew it was just the ellon’s way of humour, but it could not have come at a worse time. She wanted to see Thranduil, more than anything, each time she would race to the throne room to give her report of the patrol, hoping to see him, yet found only Feren waiting for her. It hurt more than she thought it would.

 

“Tauriel!” called a familiar voice just ahead of her, looking up she saw the very ellon who had caused the latest rift between them. Flevedir gently paced over to her, his eyes never once parting from hers, if she was not his captain she would have adverted her gaze for discomfort, something her position did not allow, although she hoped he didn’t see it any other way. “How did the report go with the king?” he asked, stopping just before her.

 

“It was to Feren, the king was pre-disposed” she replied flatly, the look on the ellon’s face suggested he had noted the bluntness of her tone also.

 

“Again? Have you upset him?” he chuckled, she was known to not hold back with the king, perhaps that’s why he chose her for the position of captain. She was about to respond when he came a little close to her, far to close to be considered appropriate and to an outsider view it looked as if they were very intimate with one another. “I was disappointed we did not have a chance to walk under the stars the other night, I was very much looking forward to it” he whispered softly, his hand rising to graze her arm. It was too much now she thought and made to step back and cut him off, but before she could she saw Flevedir’s eyes widen and he rapidly stepped away from her and stood straight.

 

“My king Thranduil, Commander Feren, apologies I did not see you there! I was just relaying some information regarding the patrol” the elf stuttered. Tauriel’s heart froze, she slowly turned her head and there she saw it. Commander Feren stood with a few rolls of parchment under his arm, holding a disapproving expression on his face, it was Thranduil’s expression that caused her to swallow silently. His face held nothing, cold, emotionless and empty, she felt her fae reach out for his, only for his own to rapidly retreat, betrayal and sorrow emanating from it as it did so, betraying the façade his face held.

 

“Clearly, it must have been quite the report for you to be so close, perhaps captain you did not recount the full version to me earlier?” Feren asked in a stern voice, his rank coming to the fore. Tauriel realised the question was not rhetorical and quickly tried to find her words.

 

“No commander, the report was given to you in full” she replied, trying to control the pain inside her heart as Thranduil’s fae refused to connect with her own.

 

“It is none of my business as to what is going on between you both, might I suggest you take this .. situation to somewhere more private? Not so openly in the hall” Feren scolded.

 

“I assure you my lord, there is nothing, no situation to take elsewhere” she said quickly, but the damage was already done, coupled with the events of the other evening and how the situation appeared now. Feren did not respond only made to walk past her but halted once the king spoke. 

 

“Inform the company we leave on the morrow commander” Thranduil spoke, his voice carrying through the hall. _He is leaving? To where?_ She thought to herself, her body and mind screaming for her to run to him. She heard Feren say something in acknowledgement before he hurried off to carry out his orders, it was then the king looked at her, _right at her_ , showing her the torrent of pain behind his stormy eyes, before it was gone, replaced by the cold expressionless mask he had mastered for centuries.

 

“You are dismissed, captain” he spoke, his voice taking on the tone she was so familiar with prior to the battle for Erebor, he practically spat her title out. She felt tears sting her eyes as she made to leave, _I have done nothing wrong,_ her eyes flicked to Flevedir’s for a moment as a strong urge to assault him came over her, yet he was not aware of anything going on between her and the king, she could not blame him, at least not rationally.

 

Thranduil waited not for her to leave before he walked away, rage boiling under his skin, clouding his judgement. _A fool you are Thranduil, to open your heart once more. Only for her to run off with the next ellon that pays her any heed, much like that accursed dwarf!_ His thoughts bellowed through his mind. To long had he tarried on this Middle Earth for what? His son? Legolas was gone, for now at least. Thranduil paused for a moment, before turning to one of the guards that stood watch about his halls.

 

“Have a messenger sent to my chambers, tell them it is urgent” Thranduil commanded softly. The guard nodded and muttered his compliance before marching off to find a messenger for the king. He would recall the prince to the realm, Legolas would take up the mantle of king should he fall, _Eru I wish for it to be so_. Death was preferable to him now, he had seen too much, taken to much. He stalked off to his chambers, no one daring to stop him once they saw the look of the king’s face. Ordering his guards to only allow the messenger through he entered his study and took a quill and parchment, before beginning to scribe the letter to his son.

 

…

 

“Commander Feren!” Tauriel called out as she entered the barracks, causing the ellon to look up from the maps sprawled on a table in the centre of the room, his face showing a look of displeasure about being disturbed. Tauriel watched as he rose himself to his full height, his arms crossed behind his back, every bit the commander.

 

“Captain Tauriel, what can I do for you?” he asked.

 

“Where is it the king is leaving too?” she replied, knowing full well it was not of her business, she expected the commander to tell her as much.

 

“You need not concern yourself with that captain, your role is to ensure the forest remains clear” he replied before looking back down at the maps. She felt irritation rise within her at the dismissive tone from Feren, she knew she had no right to ask but pressed the issue further.

 

“He is my king and I the captain of the guard, it would be prudent I know for matters of security” she came again. She saw Feren’s jaw clench and noticed the other soldiers in the room look around to the scene unfolding.

 

“Leave us, you have your orders” Feren spoke, referring to the warriors in the room, they needed not telling twice and swiftly departed. Feren then walked around the table and came to stand in front of Tauriel, his hands still firmly behind his back. “Seeing as you are so _concerned_ all of the sudden, the king is taking his company south with the intention of thinning the orc population with a series of harrying cavalry strikes” he spoke.

 

“We have no idea how many orcs, wargs or spiders lay in that part of the forest, you could be riding into an ambush” Tauriel said with surprise, surely the king was not this reckless.

 

“Strange, once you were so vehement about assaulting Dol Guldur, now the king takes action you seek to disagree?” quipped the commander causing Tauriel to pause for a moment.

 

“I was naïve, I did not know the strength of our enemy then. You cannot do this, what if he is slain?” she countered, her heart constricted as the thought of him lying dead on some battlefield somewhere.

 

“You underestimate our king, you think him foolish and reckless? You think he has not laid out plans to lower the risks of an ambush? He knows far more about our enemy than you give him credit! Spiders will not attack a small host on horseback, they look for weak prey, the wargs are diminished since Erebor, the orcs would’ve put them to task on the garrison if they had any in number” Feren snapped, tiring of her doubts. She hung her head, ashamed she had again doubted her kings wisdom and knowledge, she longed to return to the night he was wounded, it seemed simpler then, no envy an grief clouding their hearts.

 

“I apologise commander, I was just expressing my concerns” she muttered, defeated.

 

“It is alright, I have fought by his side for so long. I cannot help but worry if I fail in my duty to him, you are not the only one that cares for our kings safety. Remember that Tauriel” Feren replied before turning away from her. “I have things I must attend too, you are dismissed” he spoke softly. She nodded and turned to leave, with the intention to seeking out the king, she could let him leave like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best nor my favourite, but a filler building to the next couple of chapters.


	13. Chapter VIII – Stormbreak

**Trials of Kingship**

 

Chapter Thirteen – Stormbreak

Thranduil stood before his armour stand as he prepared to dress himself in the polished mithril inlaid elven steel, he recounted the number of times he had stood in this position, readying himself for battle, and wondered how many more times he would stand in that spot in the future. _Should you even return this time, do you truly want to live this life anymore_ he thought to himself, the scene with Tauriel and her patrol guard was burned into his minds eye, taunting him. He had not given her a chance to explain, how could she infront of Feren and her guardsman.

“ _You are foolish Elvenking, why would the she-elf choose you? Perhaps when she is done with the elf she can go back to her dwarven lovers_ ” came the familiar darkened voice from the back of his mind. He clenched his jaw at the thought of her beneath that Ellon, writhing in pleasure like she had under the ministrations of his fingers and mouth, the envy almost overwhelming him. He looked down as his clothing, looking for anyway of distracting himself from the visions pouring into his mind, ordinarily Feren or one of his royal guards would assist him in putting on his armour, so intricate it was. His eyes glanced at the seam of his breastplate, the punctured mark of Khamul’s blade was gone, forged closed by the smiths of his halls. The blade had managed to puncture the elvish steel and it had found a portion of the armour that was not inlaid with mithril, a material as strong as dragon scale but as light as a feather, there was little that could break through it, save white hot flame or by the most foul weapons on the earth. Pity it was then, that such a materiel was all but lost with the fall of Moria.

He had heard from his allies that an expedition to Moria was being planned by the dwarves to reclaim the halls once more, led by a dwarf named Balin, one who had been taken prisoner with Oakenshield. _When that she-elf of yours feel in love with a member of his party_ hissed the voice, far more sinister this time. Was he going mad? It would whisper to him, taunt and mock him, yet whenever he tried to reel his mind to address it, it was gone like naught but a stray leaf blowing in the autumn wind. Yet it was right, Tauriel, his captain of the guard, the elleth that caused a long dead flame to rekindle, had fallen for that dwarf, he knew that, no matter how much she tried to deny it. _And now she wants another, and it is not you elf-king, never will it be_!

“Enough!” Thranduil bellowed, pinching at the bridge of his nose, anything to rid the gnawing presence in his mind. So, wrapped up in his torment was he, that he did not notice the guard that had rushed into his chambers, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The king was about to question why the guard entered ready to draw his weapon, but upon seeing the room about him he paused. His armour stand was tipped over, the silver metal littered about the room, his swords were flung across the room, the papers on his desk were littered about the floor. Did he do this?

“My king? Are you alright, I heard a commotion?” asked the guard with concern in his voice.

“I am well, you may go” was all Thranduil uttered, his gaze never once leaving the cluttered mess about him.

“Very well my king, the messenger you sent for is awaiting your letter to the prince. Shall I let him know you will be a little while longer?” asked the guard. Thranduil paused for a moment, remembering the letter he had wrote himself for his son, requesting that he return home to his people, thinking for a moment whether he should bother sending it.

“It is on the table just by the door, take it to the messenger” the king said softly. The guard bowed and turned to make his leave before Thranduil spoke out again. “Ensure that no one disturbs me for the remainder of the day, I have things I must attend to in private” he finished before turning back to the armour that lay sprawled across the floor. The guard muttered his understanding and left him alone to his thoughts once more, they turned to the contents of the letter to Legolas, how would his son receive it?

_Dearest Legolas,_

_I write to you once more as both a father and a king. As you know, we have led a purge of our woodland home of the dark forces of Sauron since our return from Erebor, making as far south as the mountains. Though the dark lord has been banished from our forest, his sickness still lingers about Dol-Guldur. I have dared not order an assault on that dreaded place, the loss of life would be too great._

_It is with this next part I ask of you to return home, for I intend to lead small assaults into the southern forests. The risks of these forays into the enemies’ lands will be perilous and I know not if I will return, so it is my wish at you are here should the worst befall me. If you do not wish to take the crown I would understand, I did not want it myself before your grandfather passed._

_I will be riding south in a few days, so I am sure by the time you have received this letter I will already be enacting my plans. It is with heavy regret that we are no longer close as we once were, your mother would berate me until the end of days for my behaviour to you in recent years._

_Know that I love you my son, and you have made me incredibly proud now that you are a grown and noble ellon, you will make a fine king._

_Yours eternally,_

_Thranduil._

It grieved him to write such a letter, and he knew that Legolas would see between the lines. Thranduil has resigned himself to death, he would not keep his promise to Tauriel, why would he? She would clearly be happier with another, he would not make a fool of himself any longer. His ears were drawn to voices outside of his chamber door, a distinctive female voice appeared to be arguing with his guard.

“The king has express his wish to not be disturbed captain” came the voice of the guard at his door. _Tauriel_ he thought to himself, part of him wanted to rip open the door and send her away himself, berate her like he used too before his love and desire for her swayed his judgement, yet he could not bring himself to do so, instead he strode to the door and calmly opened the great oak door, revealing himself to the guard and captain,

“My lord! I was just informing the captain you wished not to be disturbed” the guard spoke and hurriedly bowed. Thranduil looked up at Tauriel with a stern expression, making it clear he was not amused at being disturbed.

“If it must be so urgent, come in” was his reply, walking away from the doorway but leaving it open for the elleth to follow. He took himself to where his wine was stored and poured himself a goblet, he would need it. He heard the door close gently behind him but he did not turn, she came to him, she could make the first move he thought, though his kingly manner took hold and he took a sip of his wine before speaking. “Why have you come captain?” he asked, his back still turned to her as he took another mouthful of wine, trying to cast out the image of her bedding another elf.

“Why have I come? We have not spoken since the other night! When you stormed away before I could even explain” Tauriel spoke, her voice was slightly waivered yet stern.

“Explain what Tauriel? You late night walks with you guard? The mocking of my gift to you perhaps? Or perhaps today in the halls, tell me Tauriel, what do you expect me to think?” he seethed as he rounded on her, his voice growing softer with each word as his eyes flicked from her own to her lips, what he would do to seize them in that moment.

“Flevedir is one of my guards, I take time with them all! It has become apparent that he is fond of me, this I did not know until today, he had never made his intent clear before now” she replied, her own eyes searching his face her chest moving faster with his proximity. 

“You did not know? Are you naïve? He wanted to take you to see the stars Tauriel, no I think you knew very well what was going on” Thranduil spoke, glare piercing into her.

“Do you truly think I would’ve given myself to you if I loved another? Perhaps I was mistaken, you are not kind, your experience has made you bitter and unwise” she snapped back and turned to leave, but his hand flew out and seized her upper arm, pulling her back to him, causing her to gasp in surprise.

“Did I give you leave?” he spoke deeply, her fiery temper enticing him even it was only the briefest of sparks.

“Do I need it?” she replied as she tried to pull away but struggled against his strength.

“I am your king am I not” he whispered in her ear. His anger had slipped away, giving way to his desire to be with her, washing away the darkness that had enveloped his mind, restoring some form of rationality to him.

“What of it” she whispered in reply, her breath heavy against his ear as he felt her shake with anticipation. Driven by desire he pushed her firmly against the nearest wall and loomed over, her inches from her lips, causing her to eagerly raise her mouth to him but he would not allow their lips to touch, not yet anyway, he wanted to savour her need for him. “Do you still think I lust after another?” she asked, a slightly taunt to her tone, he felt a surge of envy return at the mention of the ellon.

“Careful Tauriel, you might not like the fire when it burns” he replied, his tone of his voice causing her to shudder.

“Let it consume me, I care not” with that consent he unleashed all of the bottled-up emotions he had carried for the last two days, seizing her mouth in a searing kiss and pressed her into the wall, until his body was pressed to her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short I know, I really really struggled here I don’t know why. I’ve recently been promoted at work and I’ve got back into my tennis again, so my time has been a bit split! We have some more Thranduil memories coming, including the late queen!
> 
> What do you think?


	14. Chapter XIV – A Bitter Memory

**Trials of Kingship**

Chapter XIV – A Bitter Memory

Thranduil slowly withdrew his lips from Tauriel’s own, his eyes slowly sliding open to gaze at her beautiful features once more, something he had never allowed himself to do for so many years. Her face was flushed red, her lips swollen, slightly parted and crimson from their passionate kiss, he never let his ice blue eyes leave her face as he watched her eye lids gently open, revealing her emerald stare. She looked at him with an open expression of love and adore as she reached out and lay her hand on his face, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, an expression which caused him shame and guilt over his behaviour, and recent darker thoughts.

“I am sorry Tauriel, I allowed jealousy to cloud my judgement and I acted rashly, without hearing your tale of events. I hope you will forgive me?” he asked softly as he ran his hand gently through a stray strand of flame coloured hair that had fallen over her shoulder. At his words the tears that shimmered were let loose, gently slipping down her flawless cheek, causing his fingers to deftly brush away the warm liquid. “It pains me that I have inflicted sorrow on you my love, again” he spoke gently, but was stopped by a shake of the head from the elleth.

“Do you not trust me? My foolishness with Kili and attempts to incite jealousy then have affected your faith?” she asked sadly, her eyes never leaving his own. He remembered her confession that she had gone after Kili because of the idea of loving him, also to obtain the attentions of another ellon, at the time he knew nothing of her feelings for him and when she followed Kili, he did not understand that his anger was envy and hurt. It mattered not, love caused even the wisest to act foolishly, as he had done so.

“You are the captain of my guard, I trust you with everything Tauriel. You have brought a light to the darkness of my heart, you chase away the shadow that lingers when you are close, you bring me relief were none have since ..” he cut short at the thought of his late queen, causing his head to sink a little, her passing had caused his shift to a cold and unfeeling king, content to wallow away within his halls, away from the troubles of the world. He felt warm hands grip his face gently, pulling his gaze to her own once more.

“Will you tell me of her? Locking the memories away have caused you to fall away, she would not what you to suffer in this life” Tauriel said gently, understanding the gravity of the question she had put forth to her king. He never spoke of her, not even to Legolas, the memories of her being to painful to bare, another loss the king had suffered in his lifetime. Since their talks had begun from when she had questioned him about his life, she stood amazed he had yet lived to speak of it, let alone not fading nor sailing west.

“What would you wish to know” he replied slowly as he stepped away from her, slowly pacing to one of the ornate glass paned windows of his chambers, his stormy eyes gazing out over the canopy of the forest beyond the glass. He could already feel his heart clench at the memory of his beloved queen, _I cannot speak of this_ he thought to himself, the memory of her face drifting through his mind, clear as starlight.

“Just her, as much as you wish to tell” Tauriel whispered, stepping up behind him and resting her hands upon his broad shoulders.

“Her name was Alarielle, she and I met shortly after Sauron had swept through Eregion” he began after a moment of silence.

_The mood was sombre within the Greenwood, even with the festivities thrown in celebration of the coming of summer. Though many danced and sang, the faces of the elven warriors amongst the revellers betrayed the illusion of peace, Annatar had revealed himself as Sauron and his dark armies of orcs and fell creatures had swept through Eregion. The ring maker Celebrimbor was slain, and the dark lords deception complete, even now the high king Gil-Galad held a meeting at Weathertop with the men of Numenor and other elf lords. War was coming._

_Thranduil sat pondering whether his people survive should his father Oropher commit to war, he knew his father would, no elf lord would brush away their duty to defend Middle Earth, least of all from the student of Morgoth._

_“Another wine my son?” Oropher asked as he held a crystal goblet out before him, the dark crimson liquid swirling gently in the glass. Thranduil smiled at his father and nodded once, taking the glass from the other ellon and reclined within his seat whilst Oropher to the one to his right. The royal pair observed the people dancing and laughing with one another, both sensing what was coming._

_“I thank you father, tell me, it is heartening to see the people so joyous, despite what has happened is it not?” Thranduil asked, seeking to steer his thoughts away from the war that was to come._

_“Yes my son, the silvan elves of this wonderful realm are full of joy, the youngest of the elves. I find myself thinking we should all be like them” the king chuckled as he sipped his wine. “Come now Thranduil, have you thought more on what I have said?” the last sentence caused Thranduil to pause for a moment, his father had asked him to consider marriage, with war coming, and Oropher would be expected to lead the armies of the Greenwood should they be called upon._

_“I have not thought on it, I suspect you are right however. The people will be expecting me to take a wife an produce an elfing of my own, though I know not why. You are our king, ever will you be” Thranduil replied as he sipped from his wine, his mood declining at the implication his father could perish, his mother having already sailed west after the kinslaying led by the sons of Feanor at Doriath. Truth be told his eyes were drew to an elleth, one who was mingling within the crowd of elves before him as it were._

_Alarielle she was named, her beauty was beyond description to him. A Sindar elf she was, her long flowing hair was silver like his own, her grey eyes as beautiful as a stormy sky, her smile alone was enough to make even the most noble ellon entranced. He watched over his goblet rim as she laughed merrily with a group of elves, he noticed many of the gathering were ellon, seeking to obtain her affections. So engrossed with her smile was Thranduil and he failed to notice when her eyes darted towards him, catching him looking directly at her. He noticed her look away swiftly, not failing to notice the tips of her pointed ears and cheeks tint red, she was blushing._

_“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Thranduil muttered to himself. He noted his father look up from his wine and look over to where his sons gaze lay._

_“Alarielle? Yes my son, many of the ellon wish to bond with her” replied the king._

_“Do you still think about mother?” Thranduil asked suddenly, feeling guilt flow through him when his saw his father’s face fall a little._

_“Every day my little leaf, I will see her again one day. Or now my place is with my people and my son, she is waiting for me in the Undying Lands, and when my time here has run its course, we will be together once more” Oropher spoke honestly. Thranduil nodded, deciding perhaps he should gather his courage and speak with the beautiful elleth, rather than admiring her from afar._

_“Excuse me for a moment father” spoke Thranduil as he rose from his chair and walked into the crowd of elves, each parting for him as he made his way to the elleth of his eye. It took only a few moments for him to arrive at the gathering that Alarielle was standing with, the group all turned and bowed on his arrival, he lowered his head in acknowledgment before turning to the nearest ellon, whom he knew from the host that had marched for war._

_“Faendil, I trust you are recovering well from your wound?” Thranduil asked the brown-haired elf as he looked at the elleth he sought from the corner of his eye, she like the rest of the group were all watching him._

_“I am recovering well my king, thank you for your concern. It will take more than an orc blade to strike me down” Faendil replied with a bow of his head. The king smiled at the ellon before turning his attentions to the reason he had wandered to the little gathering, Alarielle._

_“Lady Alarielle, would you care for a dance? I confess it has been some time, and the merriment of the music has me inspired” Thranduil asked, his face betrayed none of the anxiety that plagued his mind as he asked the question. The rest of the elves all turned to look at the silver haired elleth, causing her to blush a little once more._

_“M-me my lord? I would be honoured of course” Alarielle stuttered as he rushed into a swift bow. Thranduil’s mouth twitched at the corners to form a smile as he extended his hand, which she took gently, causing his stomach to jump at the contact of her soft skin._

Thranduil stopped narrating then, his grieve rising to surface once more, threatening to overwhelm him. The lump in his throat was suffocating him as he held back the tears that threatened to spill. He felt Tauriel press into his back as she put her arms around his waist to comfort him, understanding the grief he was feeling.

“My father …” his voice caught at the memory. “He will never again see my mother, she stands alone in Aman, waiting for him to come to her, something that will never come to pass” he finished in anguish. Tauriel drew him in, holding him close.

“He would have been called to Mandos Thranduil” she whispered. “He would have returned from his halls to see your mother again, you know this” she soothed.

“No, my father was slain with a morgul blade Tauriel, something of that evil cannot be cleansed by even Mandos himself. His spirit is gone, ever to wander his halls for eternity, never to be given his form again” Thranduil replied. Tauriel made to speak but stopped when she saw something for the first time, a single tear slipped from the kings eye. The realisation of his beloved parents being sundered for eternity weighing down on his already grieving heart.

“She was blessed to have been loved by you” she whispered to him, seeking to bring his thoughts back from the brink of despair.

“Nay, it was I that was blessed Tauriel. She had her pick of any ellon, yet chose to love me and gifting me Legolas because of that” he replied, the mention of his son causing yet a little more pain. How would his queen feel about the state of him and his son’s estrangement?

“You should speak of her more often, locking away the memories will do you nothing but pain, no good will come of that. She would not want that” Tauriel spoke as Thranduil turned around to face her. He looked over her beautiful features, so different from Alarielle but no less beautiful, he felt his desire for her grow as he felt her body against his own, seeking to chase away the grief with his love and lust for the elleth before him. Ignoring her words he seized her lips in a heated kiss, causing a muffled gasp from her as he ravaged her mouth. Her hands flew around his neck as she returned his passion, pressing herself into him further, groaning erotically when his hardened length grinded against her hips and stomach, his intentions made clear when his hands moved to her bottom and lifting her from her feet, pushing her into the wall, his mind completely taken by lust.

“I don’t want to remember, not in this moment Tauriel. I want you, only you” he whispered against her trembling lips, she was affected by lust as much as him, the memories of their night together flooded through his mind, he cries of pleasure and need echoing within him. Completely consumed by his lust his hands reached for the front of her corset and pulled it apart, revealing her flawless and supple breasts to his hungry gaze, they heaved with her own rapid breaths causing his eyes to flick up to her own, seeking permission to carry on, leaning close to her ear. “May I? I warn you my beloved Tauriel, if I begin, I will not be able to stop, my love for you will not allow it, do you want this?” he whispered huskily into her ear, earning a whimpering gasp from the elleth.

“I need you, please, make love to me” she pleaded. Thranduil needed little more urging, his hungry kisses resuming and his hands grasping at her clothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to put the love making scene here, but I want to really put a chapter too that. The memories of Thranduil’s wife will be more frequent now, and we can see the true Thranduil as well as what ultimately led to his manner of today.
> 
> Fair warning, the next chapter will be very adult.


	15. Chapter XV – Midnight Heat

**Trials of Kingship**

Chapter XV – Midnight Heat

 

WARNING: The following chapter will have detailed smut/sexual themes, it will be done tastefully of course, however you have been warned!

 

……

 

Thranduil threw Tauriel onto his bed as they stumbled into his bedchamber, their lips locked in a heated exchange as they fought for dominance over the other, where their actions were to lead them was clear and neither of the pair would prevent the course. As Tauriel hit the plush mattress its lush surface moulded gently to her body whilst Thranduil stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over her exposed torso, adsorbing every detail of her exposed skin. Her swollen lips were parted ever so slightly as she looked up at him with her emerald gaze darkened by lust, her chest heaved with her rapid breath, drawing his gaze to her firm breasts and erect nipples he felt his own lips part and his length strain painfully within his breeches. He placed one knee onto the edge of the bed and began to crawl towards the red headed elleth, like a predatory cat would its prey, his eyes burning with desire for the elf that had captured his heart so subtly. He heard Tauriel’s breath catch as he crawled to within a few inches of her, he was aware of his beauty and its effect on an elleth, he was not vain, however he had often used his fair and haunting beauty to his advantage in diplomacy. Tauriel’s eyes fluttered as her mouth edged closer to his, groaning in frustration and heat when he teasingly pulled his lips away before she could make contact.

“Do not tease me, please” she breathed. A smirk graced his lips as he heard the need in her voice, he was intending on making her beg for release, to have her cry out his name in the darkness as he made heated love to her over and over. He tilted his head and lowered his mouth to her ear, gently nipping it before allowing his tongue to trace the edge from bottom to tip, causing her to whimper at the soft and teasing touch. He held her wrists together with a single hand and held it above her head, before gently kissing and nipping her jaw line, she was writhing beneath him as her breaths were sharp, his own desire growing as he felt her hardened nipples barely brush the exposed skin of his chest, the noises emitting from her mouth were inaudible, a mixture of gasps and whimpers as he taunted her flesh, gentle brushes they were yet he could sense her first climax was not far off. “Thranduil … oh” she started but groaned when he gently bit the side of her firm breast, before gently kissing across the firm skin, his lips skirting around the edge of her nipple. His smirk grew as he felt her thighs grind together as another cry came from her swollen lips.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my beloved Tauriel” he whispered husky in her ear. She nodded eagerly as her eyes slid closed, her legs squeezing together as she bit her lip firmly, pleasure coursing through her body. Goaded on by her mewling of pleasure his tongue teased gently around her nipple as his thumb traced the other, her back arching to his touch, her body begging for him to touch her. Suddenly he allowed his tongue to barely graze the sensitive nub, causing her to gasp loudly, her hips jerking upwards as he legs clamped together tightly, shaking with her approaching release. Again, he grazed her nipple over and over with faint and teasing caresses, causing her breathing to become erratic, her body beginning to violently shake, Thranduil knew many ways to bring an elleth to release, and this was only the start. “This will be the first of many heights Tauriel, that I promise you” he came his sultry voice. A moment later his mouth closed around her hardened nub, he suckled and nipped earning a reaction he found most pleasing as Tauriel arched of the bed, her mouth agape in a wordless scream before a sharp erotic _ah!_ Escaped, her body shook strongly as she crossed her legs before they went limp, her first climax rolling through her.

Without a word he trailed his lips lower across her stomach, applying pressure to her skin and pulling gently, leaving behind light marks upon her surface. He could make little sense of her words as they came out in groans and whimpers, her hands coiling into his silver-blonde hair as he descended lower until he reached her waist, the lower portion of her body was still covered with her gown. His hands grasped at the hems and pulled the material away with little effort as she aided him, lifting her legs up revealing her most private and intimate parts of her beautiful body, he could see even in the dim light of the bedchamber, her arousal for him. She parted her slender legs for him as he placed his hands on her knees and gently ran them down to her thighs, she was slick already from his ministrations and her earlier release, a quick glance into her eyes told him her need was great, so involved he was with pleasuring her he barely heard her begging of _please_. With another predatory smirk, he slipped his hand between her smooth thighs, touching her core with his slender fingers, massaging the velvet like folds and barely brushing the bud of nerves at the apex of her entrance.

Her hands grasped his face and pulled him down to her lips as she kissed him heatedly, stifling her cries of pleasure as he allowed one of his skilful digits to slide into her, her hips grinding against his palm, driving her to insanity. Never did she think love making was this pleasurable, never had she felt the touch of another until that first night with him, her core burned uncomfortably whenever she saw him now, aching for fulfilment, she wanted him, craved him in this moment. She gasped through their kiss when a second finger entered, she was so aroused that this moment that even with her inexperience in love making and needy roll of her hips she felt no pain, only the steady build of pressure of her second release.

“Please, Thranduil please I cannot take anymore” she moaned against his lips, crying out loudly as he curled his fingers from inside of her, causing another orgasm to shake through her. Thranduil withdrew his fingers and slowly brought them too his mouth, gently cleaning them with his mouth, a sight so erotic to Tauriel she felt as though she would come undone again. He lowered his hands to the waistband of his breeches and began to unlace the front, his keen gaze noting the hunger behind the red headed elleth before him as her eyes followed his fingers movements. As the final lace was loosened he allowed the fitted coverings of his leg to slip down, kneeling up so he could remove the material fully before remaining upright, allowing Tauriel to take in his naked form fully, her expression did not disappoint as her mouth parted and her eyes widened, he saw her throat move as she gulped. He smiled seductively as he stalked over her once again, she did not back away as she rose up to hover but inches from his lips, her breasts so close to brushing his firm chest, the heat from her entrance rolling outward as his hardened length was so close.

“Do you like what you see captain?” he whispered against her lips, whilst taking her hips and pulling her roughly against him, as her wet entrance brushed against his length he let out a groan of desire himself, his hips grinding against her, sliding effortlessly against her folds as she dug her nails into his back. “I have not touched anyone since Alarielle, I had almost forgotten what it was like” he continued as he moved against her again. He watched as her eyes changed from darkened lust to a softened affection, the depth of her love was clear to him in that moment.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen my lord” she replied, her voice wavering as his length glided against her folds, her third release was rapidly forming. She looked down at his glorious manhood, her breath caught at its size, she had never before seen the male sexual organ before and had no comparison, as an elfing she was taught the biology of her race and none of the scripts or illustrations reflected what her eyes saw before her. She gently reached out and touched the head of his length, causing him to dip his head back a little, his mouth parting slowing with a gasping breath, she felt her release rising as she watched his pleasure at her touch. Closing her eyes she guided him to her entrance, showing her willingness to proceed.

“You are sure?” he asked gently. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck as she braced herself for what was about to come. Thranduil watched her careful as he finally slid himself into her gently, easing his way deeper with a slow pace not wanting to cause her any pain. For Tauriel she felt some discomfort at first, before her vision exploded with stars as her third climax ripped through her at his entry, more powerful than the first time. She heard Thranduil groan as her inner muscles flexed around his length, her legs were flung over his hips as she pulled him further into her, she could hear herself crying _oh, oh_ into the darkness with little shame, the feeling of being one with him driving her to new heights. His slow and deep pace was maddening, though blissful at first it became tormenting as her walls stretched to capacity to take him, she longed for him to go faster but from his pervious actions she could tell he was a taunting lover, bringing his partner to many heights no matter how much torment it caused.

He began to move a little more swiftly within her, his breath catching as she hiked her legs further up his back, allowing his hardened length to slip deeper within her. Soon she was rolling her hips back against him, her breathes rapid and she no longer tried to contain the noises coming from her mouth, Thranduil buried his head into her shoulder as the tight walls of her core flexed around him, groaning as his length moved within her wet heat. He gently bit down on her shoulder, causing her moans to catch slightly as he did, her desperate movements were bringing him close to his own release. He withdrew from her, causing her to open her eyes in surprise at the empty feeling now within her, but before she could question his actions he took her by the waist and flipped her over onto her stomach so that her bottom was facing him. In a lustful haze he placed kissed and gentle bites down her spine and bottom causing her to twitch and move against his mouth, before he adjusted his position and slipped himself into her entrance once more from behind.

“Thranduil!” she breathed as he entered her fully, it was too much, she knew not how much longer she could take anymore. Thranduil smiled into her shoulder as one hand gripped the sheets and the other reached behind her and tangled into his hair, his strokes becoming more erratic, pressing her down into the bed with each thrust. With Tauriel’s final climax crashing around him and wetting his length and thighs he could no longer hold on, his whole body tensed as the pleasurable rise from his nether regions erupted from him, filling her core before he rolled from her back, his energies spent.

He stared up at the ceiling of his chambers as he gathered his breath, he remembers not being this exhausted in centuries, not even in battles did he feel as spent as he did now. He glanced over at Tauriel who was staring at him with a satisfied expression written clearly on her face, her eyes warm as they met with his own and reaching out a hand to touch his left cheek, his scars covered by the glamour he used to hide the damage.

“Could you have imagined us here when we stood before each other in Dale?” he asked deeply as he searched her eyes, he could scarcely believe that they were sharing his bed after the glorious love making they had just completed. She smiled sadly at him at the memory, one of which they had discussed in their many meetings together, little had they both known the true reason for their fiery tempers that day.

“No, had anyone told me then I would not have believed it, could not have” she whispered in reply and gently moved to him, resting on his firm chest.

“I thought I was enraged at your foolishness, as it happens, I was incredibly jealous, for what I thought you felt for that dwarf. I refused to acknowledge it then, I made many an error on that day Tauriel” he replied, the memories of the dead pouring into this mind again. She reached for his face and gently lay her hand on his cheek, seeking to comfort him and chase away the memories.

“I never imagined love making would be like this, I have heard the guards speak of it. Never have they described it to be this way, I never expected to be kissed.. so low before” Tauriel murmured, a little blush spreading across her face, despite having shared herself with him. Thranduil chuckled gently before kissing her hand and then her wrist, before turning her onto her stomach once more, placing loving bites down her spine, causing her to gasp and arch her hips, her firm bottom grazing his stomach and chest as he went lower. Her gasps began to turn to soft moans as he suckled the skin of her lower back as his hands massaged her thighs, slipping tauntingly close to her centre, it was when he gently bit her bottom she bucked in surprise and threw her head into the pillow as he continued to kiss and rake his teeth across her backside causing her to swaying hips with the pleasure. He pulled himself up to her eyes and pulled her hair away from them so her could whisper to her.

“The eldar are very traditional when it comes to love making Tauriel, I however” he began in a deep husky tone, he felt her shudder with lust as the head of his hardened length pressed against the wetness of her core, threatening to slip into her. “Prefer more pleasurable experiences, do you not agree?” he finished, slowly and teasingly sliding into her, stretching her to her limit. She leaned her head back and let out a long moan of ecstasy as he slowly kept going, she wanted nothing more than to grind her hips back against him, she nearly wept when his hand crept around to her breast and gently flicked her erect nipple.

“Please, take me, end this torment” she begged.

“As you wish my love” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Hot and classy?


	16. Chapter XVI - Wrath of the Woodland Realm

**Trials Of Kingship**

**Chapter XVI – Wrath Of The Woodland Realm**

 

Thranduil leaned over the large table within the southern garrison’s command tent, he was studying the large map that had been chartered by his scouts, a perilous task indeed. As the king studied the detailed drawings of the forests of the south, deciding where first to strike, Feren stood by waiting for the word to order the guard to mount. Thranduil noted the forest was far sparser that it once was, a sign of how bad the corruption of that old fortress had become, even after the white council had caste Sauron out. He stood tall and turned to Feren, the commander stood straight awaiting his orders.

“We will strike at the eastern forest, keeping the mountains to our flanks. The maps suggest this is were the majority of the warg dens are located. If we can slay these beasts and burn their dens we can insight fear into the hounds of the enemy” Thranduil spoke, true enough the number of wargs sighted since the pass was taken was low, it did not mean the elven-king would allow them respite to regrow their population. There was a flurry of activity as Thranduil swept from the tent, flanked by his royal guard as Feren stepped just behind them, the royal company were all readying their steeds to sally out of the gate on their king’s order. Thranduil strode over to his majestic elk, running his hand along its course silver white fur to sooth the creature, it lowered its snout to the elf-kings head, its breath causing the silver blonde hair to ripple.

The guard began to mount up, they wore the armour of the palace guard, its silver scales were light and flexible for easier movement, their grey cloaks draped over the rump of their horses who whinnied and stamped their hooves in nervous energy. Each guard was equipped with a long spear and a shield, giving them the advantage of reach against the wargs and spiders, if an orc managed to get close, the warrior would rely on their long-curved swords at their hip. A few of the guards were equipped with recurved bows of the woodland guard, they would serve far better than the war bow carried by the army in the denser parts of the forest. Thranduil could sense the nervous energy as he mounted his elk and urged it toward the gate, each of his royal guard was worth ten orcs, it still did not put him at complete ease, a small part of him feeling profound guilt at the death of any warrior, knowing it was his fault they were slain.

“My king, the company is ready” Feren spoke as he drew his grey steed beside the king, followed by Thranduil’s personal guards, the closest to him was Evander, who also had fought with him in Mordor, the old ellon had served in the military for many ages, his defining moment coming in Erebor as he rallied the elves before the Lonely Mountain and stood steadfast with the dwarves whilst Thranduil went to relieve Dale. The elven-king observed the company of his guards, long had they served him without question, each having given their long lives to his protection.

“You have all served with me for many an age, through Doriath, Mordor, Gundadbad and Erebor. For this service I offer you this. The orders I have issued are dangerous, I cannot promise that you will survive nor, can I promise you victory, I offer you the chance to return home, I cannot ask anyone to accompany me pass this gate” Thranduil spoke aloud. There was silence, the king casting his gaze across the elves that had so valiantly stood beside him over the years, he remembers the names of those who are not with them today, he will always remember them. It was Feren who made the first action, placing his hand across his chest and lowering his head slightly in respect.

“I once said I was with you until the very end, I have no intention of changing that now. I would ride with you into Barad-dur itself if you willed it” spoke the commander, his voice firm and his head held high. One by one the royal guards stepped forward and repeated the gesture from Feren and uttered oaths of loyalty, each willing to die for their king and protection of their realm, to whatever end. Thranduil felt the slight sting of tears form behind his eyes as he felt pride swell within him at the loyalty of his men. He drew his sword and urged his great elk to canter through the gate, his company of cavalry marching behind him as they swept from the fortifications and unto the eastern forest, Thranduil’s last moments with Tauriel flashing through his mind.

_He lay above her with his forearms either side of her head as his hands entangled in her flame coloured hair, his eyes boring into her own. They were still nude from their vigorous love making, Thranduil hips still resting between Tauriel’s hips as he legs were entwined with his own, no words needed to be spoken, their love for one another was clear. She reached out and touched his silver-blonde hair gently, her eyes shifting across his face, a hint of sorrow entering her emerald orbs._

_“You will ride for the southern border on the morrow?” she whispered softly, the sadness in her tone did not go unnoticed by Thranduil. His company were prepared to ride south and harry the enemy, allowing them no respite, the task was a dangerous one and it was not so long ago that the elven-king was resigned to death. Was he still? The dark presence that lurked within his mind had been chased away for the moment, it could not influence his thoughts when in the presence of her, it help him see more clearly. “Will you allow me to come with you?” she asked._

_“No Tauriel, I need you here, away from harm and to keep our forests safe” he replied, he would not lose her, he could not. He watched as tears filled her eyes at his words._

_“I need you safe, everyday you are apart from me I will worry endlessly until you return. If you allow me at your side it will ease my mind my love” she pleaded. The elven-king was caught at a loss, never before had he seen the captain so vulnerable before him, he gently leaned down an kissed her forehead and cheeks before finally her lips._

_“I have already lost one love, another would kill me Tauriel, please do not put me in that position I beg of you. If you are beside me I will only worry for your health” he whispered whilst moving to adjust his position, causing his member to slip into her unexpectantly, causing her to gasp in surprise, her eyes darkening with lust at the sudden touch. “I promise I will return to you Tauriel” he continued, his other breath hitched at the warmth that enveloped his length. He tauntingly rocked his hips slowly and deep, causing the elleth beneath him to gasp in pleasure._

_“You cannot – ah, escape this conversation by seduction …. Oh” she struggled to speak as his sizable member slowly slipped in and out of her core, aided by her own arousal. He ignored her statement and took one of her nipples into his mouth causing her body and writhe beneath him, adding to the pleasure around his manhood. He reached between them and gently flicked her little pleasure centre at the top of her core, causing her to cry out and her inner walls to convulse around him. Her climaxes had been earth shattering with him, she had heard from married elleth that a lady’s climax was difficult to achieve but was a wonder of the gods, she could feel that now as she jerked and twitched, feeling her fluids escape and soak the sheets beneath her._

_“Are you satisfied my lady” he whispered into her ear. She wanted so much to return the favour, his hands and lips, his lips especially had caused her to reach her peak so often she sought to repay him of his selfless services one day._

_“I am my lord, I will hold you to that promise. I will only stay because of this, no matter how much it hurts me to remain behind” she whispered as she held the side of his face to her own._

_“You have my word” he replied._

It was not long before the thundering hooves of the elven cavalry roused the wargs and orcs of the eastern forest. The first orc camp was slaughtered within moments, felled by arrow and spear. Thranduil assessed the corpses in disgust, the wargs were thinner than usual, a sign that they were succumbing to hunger, most of the prey within the forest was depleted or had moved north to the cleansed part of the forest. Something irked the elven-king, he had expected much stiffer resistance beyond the fortifications and he was not so foolish to believe the forces of Dol-Guldur were defeated. Feren trotted up beside him, giving him a questioning look.

“Something troubles you my king?” asked the commander.

“Something fell is afoot, I can feel it” Thranduil replied and took in the terrain. His company of one hundred were atop a blasted heath, the forest was sparse here, withered and dead, it was then he saw the movement in the treeline to the south. A lone warg rider prowled the edge, pacing back and forth. “Feren, have all the men but two dismount and gather their supplies” whispered the king gently.

“My lord?” Feren replied confused.

“This has been a lure, listen” the king replied, it was faint but the elven senses could hear it. The marching falls of orcs, hundreds of them, coming from the south. “Have two guards ride for the garrison, if we all ride we could cause a panic. The orcs will not chase down two riders in favour of fighting a small host of elves, unsaddle the horses too. They will only hinder us here” Thranduil ordered quietly, his eyes never leaving the lone orc. His orders were followed with swift efficiency, two of the most skilled horsemen galloped north east along with a trail of unmounted horses as the royal guard assembled on the blasted heath, giving full view of any approach. The footfalls grew louder now with each moment, the elves formed a tight circular formation atop the hill with Thranduil just behind the third line.

“Archers within the company, use your arrows sparingly, aim only for beasts of war or commanders. Spearmen present your spears, leave no gaps in the wall, the elf to your right is your shield” Feren ordered. Thranduil could see in the distance the banners of the dark fortress and the crude weaponry of the orc flith, _now comes your end, elf king!_ Hissed the voice in his mind. Each second felt like an hour as the full host was revealed, as just over one thousand orcs assembled in the tree line, slowly encircling the royal company who held the hill.

“Show no mercy my warriors, those filth deserve none of it. If you should perish, I will look ever forward to seeing you once more in Aman, we hold this force here, for as long as we can” Thranduil ordered over the noise of the orcs below, the warriors thudded their spears into the ground in challenge and acknowledgement. The lone orc took up a horn from his belt before bellowing into it, signalling for the attack to begin as the horde surged forward on mass towards the elven host.

Shields were swung forward and locked together as spears extended forward, the elven line braced itself for the impact to come. Within seconds the orcs threw themselves at the spear wall, many becoming impaled on the shining spear tips before them. As the first rank withdrew their weapons from the corpses, the second line thrust their weapons over the first, skewering yet more of the foul beasts as they attempted to assault the recovering eldar. The defensive line held firm against the weight of the orcs, the second and third ranks supporting the first with their spears, they would just have to hold until re-enforcements could be summoned.

…

 It was late afternoon when the prince of Mirkwood arrived at the halls of his father, accompanying him were two hooded figures along with a column of armoured knights. The young prince sprinted into the throne room flanked by several nobles and palace guards all surprised at his sudden return, upon finding the throne empty he turned to the gathering behind him.

“Where is my father? Where is the king?” he asked, his voice carrying around the vast cavern. The guards shifted awkwardly as they looked towards the nobles.

“He has left for the south my prince, accompanied by his royal guard. There is a garrison there which holds back the forces of the dark lord from reclaiming the woods we have reclaimed” spoke one of the elleth nobles.

“When did he leave?” Legolas asked, his voice troubled and urgent. He had received his father’s letter in Rivendell not a week ago, upon reading his words he had rushed back to the woodland realm in haste to speak his father down. The young prince had little idea of how far his father’s will to live had fallen.

“Two weeks ago, my prince, Commander Feren is with him also. Is something the matter?” asked the noble lady. In that moment one of the hooded figures stepped forward the removed his hood, revealing Lord Elrond of Rivendell. A gasp carried from the gathered elves as they recognised the elven lord and bowed low in his presence. “Lord Elrond it is an honour to see you here” the lady spoke.

“You are most kind my lady, however we must go to King Thranduil with all haste. I fear something is of a dark ilk is afoot and it pertains to the king” Elrond spoke softly before leaning close to the other hooded figure and whispered something in their ear, the figure nodded before striding from the hall to carry out whatever order was given.

“We will have someone guide you to the southern fortifications my lord” the noble spoke but before she could carry on a voice cut across the throne room.

“I shall take them” came the voice familiar to Legolas. The gathering of elves turned to see Tauriel marching into the hall with her patrol guards. Her eyes briefly met with Legolas’s before turning to the nobles and Elrond. “I know the forests better than anyone, I shall take you to the king, if he is in danger, it is my duty as Captain of the guard to assist you my lord, my prince” she finished, her shoulders squared, and head held high, despite the pit of dread in her stomach.

“Very well, Tauriel you have the lead” Legolas replied before striding from the room past her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of action to come in the next few chapters!


	17. Chapter XVII – Valour

**Trails of Kingship**

Chapter XVII – Valour 

Thranduil’s sword punched through the blackened iron of the nearest orc as it brandished its weapon at him, its black blood pouring from the wound and its mouth, before the king’s second blade parted the head from its shoulders. The fighting was brutal, orcs stood on one another, even slaying each other in an attempted to reach the elven circle who held valiantly on the blasted mound as the enemy kept coming. They had suffered losses themselves, each warrior standing over a fallen brother, slashing out violently at any orc who dared to steal the body away to savage it, no Eldar body would fall into the hands of the orcs unless they were all slain. The battle had been fought for nigh on four hours, the tireless Eldar withstanding the assault with their martial prowess and discipline, for every elf that was slain the toll inflicted on the orcs was fearsome. No one fought more savagely than the elven-king himself, his twin swords cleaving orcs asunder with each swing, only the most brazen and foolish of the orcs would attempt to approach, Feren stood close to his king, his own blade swathed in black blood but where-ever they looked, more and more orcs came. _Oh, great elven-king, doomed to fall atop of ruined heath, in the rotting forest that once belonged to your father, how now would he see you_ the dark voice boomed in his mind as the king slashed through the gut of an orc. The creature clutched its stomach, its innards slipping from its gut as it slumped to the battered ground, Thranduil made to turn to his next foe when he heard the orc laugh darkly behind him. The elf turned his fiery gaze to the orc, the pure hatred that Thranduil felt towards the orcs clear as a warm summers day, the orc kept its raspy laugh as it struggled to breath as blood flowed from its mouth.

"You cannot ignore me Thranduil" the orc spoke, its voice not natural, it was dark and otherworldly causing Thranduil to prepare the strike. His sword was about to end the miserable creature’s life when its eyes burst into orange flame, causing the elf king to pause in shock, his mouth parting and his eyes widening at the scene. “You will never leave this hill, none of you will” the orc cackled as it spluttered black blood. Its laugh was cut short with a screech of pain when an elven spear slammed into its throat. Thranduil looked up to see Evander wretch free his spear, before nodding to his king and returning to the shield formation, leaving Thranduil to survey the battlefield around him, sorrow filling him as he gazed at the lifeless bodies of his guards, their eyes lifeless as they stared back at him. They were holding firm; however, it would not be long before they were overrun, not even the valour of the elven warriors could combat the endless tide of filth. The sound of steel upon steel rung out across the decayed grove, the cries and war shouts of warriors and orcs filling the air and the twang of bow strings were followed by the yelps of wargs as the elven archers picked off their targets. A common saying was said of the woodland elves across Middle Earth, _they are less wise, but far more dangerous_ , the woodland guards epitomised the latter, if their sword or spear could not fell the foe, they would slam their helmets, gauntlets, shields or boots into the orcs.

Thranduil was so pre-occupied with accessing the field before him he failed to notice the orc archer that had snuck forward, standing on the piles of bodies of its fallen allies. He heard Feren call out desperately as he watched the orc draw back his crude arrow, time seemed to slow for Thranduil, the chaos of battle, the fallen comrades and the traumatic memories of Mordor all hit him at once, he could not bring himself to move. The arrow was loosed, the black shaft hurtled towards the elven-king, Feren stood in horror as he tried to reach his king, killing any orc that would dare stand in his way. Thranduil close his eyes, waiting for the moment the shaft would piece his armour and flesh. He felt a heavy weight slump against him, but no pain as he expected, his eyes flew open. Stood in front of him, with his back to Thranduil was Evander, his spear discarded, and his sword held limply by his side. The ellon stumbled backwards and was caught by Thranduil, the elven-king then noticed the orc arrow, it had punctured through the elf’s breastplate, right where his heart lay. Thranduil saw the orc archer nock another arrow but was thrown from the top of the orc pile, when a well-placed arrow stuck him through the eye.

“Evander look at me. You will be fine, help is coming just hold on a little longer” Thranduil urged, he lowered the ellon his knee as he lowered himself to the ground. The sight of the warrior’s deed spurred on the elven warriors, who fought with more savagery, forcing the orcs back. Evander had begun to grow very pale, his breaths were shallow as a small trickle of blood came from his mouth. He did not have long, and the elven-king knew it, forcing himself to steady himself.

“It was an honour to serve you … My king” the warrior struggled. Thranduil watched as the ellon’s eyes began to glass over, a signal that his life was nearing its end. Bound for the halls of Mandos, where he would be in eternal peace.

“It was an honour to have you in my guard, and as one of my people. Now rest” Thranduil replied gently. Evander managed a small smile, before he went still, his chest ceasing to move, his eyes now lifeless. Thranduil felt the warm sting of tears fall from his stormy eyes as he gently lay the warrior down, the sounds of battle gradually growing louder, as if he were in another plain of existence for a moment. Grief gave way to anger and rage, from the corner of his eye he saw orcs manage to break through the line and swam towards him. He took up his swords and stood over the body of his guard, the first orcs head was severed in a flash, the second squealed as its chest was cut open. The elven-king flew into a bloodthirsty rage, his silver swords slashing wildly but each swing brought an orc low, a large brute of an orc charged Thranduil as the elf-king tried to pull free his blade from the corpse of another. The orc thrust its spear towards him with a snarl, an expression that charged swiftly when Thranduil latched onto the wood of the shaft with his free hand, holding it in place, the weapon shaking as the large orc struggled against the strength of the king. Thranduil sneered at the beast before slamming his second sword into the orcs chest with a sickening crunch, black blood gushing from the wound before he wretched the blade free. As the orc staggered, the king pulled the spear from its grasp and with all his might drove it through the creature.

“For the fallen, for the Greenwood!” Thranduil cried, holding his bloodied sword aloft, before pulling his second free from a twitching corpse and taking the offensive to the orcs. His elves echoed his cry and as one they all pushed against their shields, forcing the orcs to stumble back before the eldar thrust their spears in unison, skewering orcs was they advanced forward. The orcs were caught off guard as the remaining elves rallied and cut the orcs down in droves, the servants of darkness surged forward, impaling themselves on the spears of the elves. At the front of the circular formation was their king, his twin blades cutting through orcs like wheat in a field, leaving only mangled and dismembered corpses behind him. His silver armour was coated in orc blood, his eyes danced like fire, he would remind the orcs of the fury of the elves and the beautiful savagery that he himself could inflict. The sounds of battle were almost muffled to him, the cries of the orcs, the ringing sound of his blade all seemed dulled, and he heard a voice, not the dark and sinister one however, no this was calm, and familiar.

_“Thranduil”_ it called, he did not let it distract him as he brought both swords down on an orc would attempted to parry the blade in vain. He would not stop, he could not, long have the forces of darkness plagued his mind, long had he looked south and felt the overwhelming sorrow of his father and kin’s deaths. _No more!_ He thought, he would cleanse the forests of any foul creature, orc, warg or spider, it mattered not.

_“Thranduil”_ it called again. The elven king swung his blade at another orc and just as it bit into its flesh, his vision went white.

_He was surrounded by nothing but fog, he no longer wore his armour, nor wielded his blades. Instead he stood in his silver robes, free of gore and grim. He looked about him, there was not a sound, silence. Was he dead? Had he been slain and was his awaiting the summons of Mandos himself?_

_“No, you are not dead Thranduil” echoed the voice, causing Thranduil to spin around, searching of the source of the voice._

_“Who are you? Show yourself!” he called out._

_“Is that anyway to greet your own father?” the voice said back, a slight chuckle in its tone. Thranduil’s heart stopped for a moment, was it a trick? The fog began to slowly part and the soft padded steps of feet could be heard, Thranduil stared out into the parted fog and saw a tall slender figure approaching. A few moments later and the figure came into full view, the elven-king felt his breath hitch as he saw his fathers form stop before him, the older elf’s kind smile gracing his face._

_“Ada” was all Thranduil could speak, Oropher smiled at his son and extended his arms outward. Thranduil surged forward and embraced his father firmly for the first time since he held his lifeless body on Dagorlad. “How is this possible?” Thranduil spoke as he drew back, searching the face of his father once again. The older elf looked upon his son sadly and looked him over._

_“By the grace of the Valar, you have been gifted this one moment to see us again. They weep at the suffer of all, yet your own has been too much for them. They have seen you fight on, even after all you have lost, and seek to give you these moments. So that your last memories with us were not full of grief” Oropher replied. Us? Thranduil thought._

_“How long do I have with you?” Thranduil asked._

_“Not long, but long enough for a father to gaze upon his son one last time” Oropher replied as he looked him up and down, pride evident on his face. “You were always destined to be a greater king than I, perhaps the greatest elven-king to walk Arda. I am so very proud of you my son” the ellon whispered gently._

_“You have a grandson; his name is Legolas. A kind and gentle soul, far more engaged with the world than I have ever been” Thranduil replied, feeling elated at his father’s pride within him. He watched as Oropher’s face lit up with joy at the news of his grandson._

_“I have heard of the boy, I wish I could have seen him in life” he replied gently._

_“Are you suffering father? Are you in pain?” the king asked, it was because of the morgal blade that Oropher could not ever leave Mandos’s halls._

_“I assure you my son I am well, the halls are peaceful and though I may never leave, I am in the comfort of knowing that my son and family are safe” Oropher explained. Father and son spoke of what had occurred over the years from Dagorlad and onwards, he explained that Sauron was not destroyed and now he was again at his plans to enslave all Middle Earth, he spoke of his shame of being unable to protect his queen and the state of which his father’s kingdom had fallen._

_“My son, a king can never grow without strive or failure. Do not think I would’ve have done any better had I still ruled, the dark lord is a powerful Maiar, it took the greatest alliance of men and elves to caste him away. Even that nearly failed, he like Morgoth are … Well, no one nation can stand alone my leaf” Oropher comforted Thranduil. The latter was about to speak before his father held up his hand gently. “My time has come my child, there is another who you will wish to see before you are returned to Arda” his father spoke, and oddly Thranduil felt no pain nor sadness as his father turned away, closure beginning to wash over him._

_“Ada!” he called after him, causing the former king to turn and face his son one last time._

_“I love you” Thranduil spoke, he had not said enough as an elfing, and now would be his last chance._

_“And I you my little leaf” Oropher smiled one last time, before walking into the fog. Thranduil watched him go as he vanished, leaving him alone in the fog once more. He wondered what had become of his physical form whilst he was here, his thoughts where cut short however when a feminine voice called out._

_“Thranduil, my love?” she called. The fog parted once more and the sight of her cause the great elf king to fall to his knees. Tears flowing freely from his eyes as she rushed forward towards him. Alarielle dropped to her knees and the pair embraced each other firmly, the composed mask that Thranduil had worn for ages past crumbled as he felt the form of his late wife press against him for the first time since her death. “By the Valar I can finally see you one last time my love” she cried against him._

_“I have missed you terribly, I would rather die a thousand deaths than have lost you my dearest one” he spoke into her shoulder. He felt overjoyed and felt the agony of her passing vanish before him. He then felt something stir within him, Tauriel he thought. As though sensing his mind Alarielle pulled back and cupped his face between her hands._

_“I do not begrudge you my love, I know my passing nearly claimed your life, I know you stayed only for our son and suffered alone whilst you cared for him and our people. You deserve a second chance my husband” she whispered lovingly to him. He placed his forehand on hers and trembled with the weight of his emotions._

_“If there was any chance of your return I would’ve waited, until the ending of the world if it took that” he replied._

_“I know, I know your love for me burns brightly still. I only ask for one thing” she spoke softly._

_“Anything” he said firmly._

_“Do not allow the rift between you and Legolas grow. I love you both so very much, it pains me to see you apart. I have seen faults and merits of both sides, please see that they are mended” she said with a waivered voice. Thranduil nodded, not trusting his voice at that moment. They stayed like that in each other’s arms, just talking about ages past and all that had come to pass. Thranduil was given some words that Alarielle wanted to pass on to Legolas, the elven-king swore to his wife that he would return to their son and deliver on his promise._

_“You must go my love, you are needed. Fight on my husband, I will always be here watching over you” she whispered. Thranduil went to speak but before he could utter a word the fog descended._

The orc slumped backwards as Thranduil’s blade cut clean through his iron chest plate. His mind and body adjusted back to the present and his blades began to turn into a dance of death once more. _I promise you Alarielle, I will return to our son_ he reminded himself of his promise as he cut down orc after orc.

…

“My prince!” called a guard from the southern garrison. All of the soldiers who stood watch and about the camp turned at the announcement, as Legolas, Tauriel, Elrond and a company of knights from Rivendell rode into the camp.

“My father, where is he?” Legolas asked urgently. The commander of the camp strode forward and was about to speak when suddenly the air was split with the horn of Mirkwood. The gates of the fortifications opened, and two elves of the royal guard rode through atop their mounts, one clutching his shoulder where an arrow had imbedded itself. Legolas felt panic surge through him at the sight the guard returning from the south without his father.

“The king and the remaining guard have been ambushed, the king sent us back to alert the garrison” the guard spoke as he helped his ally down from his horse.

“How many Lifaen?” the commander asked urgently.

“Easily one thousand, the king holds a small hill, but he will not have much time” Lifaen replied. Legolas felt numb, that force outnumbered the guard by ten to one, they would not hold them. He caught out of the corner of his eye Tauriel place a hand over her heart, a pained expression across her face.

“I will lead my company to aid King Thranduil whilst you muster an infantry force to join us shortly, Lifaen, are you well enough to lead us?” came the voice of Lord Elrond as he urged his horse forward. The guard nodded and vaulted back into the saddle of his steed, readying himself for the journey. Legolas had not spoken a word yet, it was then that Elrond turned to him.

“Your father is one of the greatest warriors and a tactical genius, I have seen him overcome worse odds at Mordor. Let us make haste” spoke the old ellon.

“Our numbers will not be enough” Tauriel spoke up, her eyes were shimmering, and her voice wavered.

“We will be able to control the field with the cavalry, that will give time for the garrison here to send a detachment to aid us” Elrond countered as he signalled for his knights to follow the royal guard. Legolas urged his steed onward, praying to Eru that they would reach his father in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worry not, there will be some expansion of the conversation Thranduil had with the queen, I am not having it that short!
> 
> What did you think? Angst and gritty enough?

**Author's Note:**

> Very short I know to start with, I am currently nine chapters in and each chapter is alot longer than this one. I always felt Thranduil never justified his actions in the films (Not that a king should have to) but PJ really made him out to be a villain when really all his actions had purpose, they were just never explained. The next chapter will be covering this. If it goes well I will cover various points in his life, such as the battle of the five armies, battle under the eaves, the last alliance etc etc.
> 
> Let me know how you feel and if you wish to see more.


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